Heart of a Lion, Mind of a Snake
by nicholosaur
Summary: When 13 year old Harry Potter is diagnosed with a serious illness, dark secrets come to light. With no safe place to call home for the summer, he is entrusted into the care of one Severus Snape. But with a boy on the verge of a breakdown, and a potions master still harbouring a school-day grudge, will they be able to put aside their differences and learn to trust in each other?
1. Chapter 1: The Muggle Chess Board

Disclaimer: I sadly do not own anything from the Harry Potter world!

A/N: This idea came to me whilst I was listening to songs on Youtube. I hope you enjoy!

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I've got more on my mind that I've never told

I've got pain that you've never felt

I've got the scars, I can deal with it on my own

I've got stories that I'll never tell

But maybe it's just as well

'Cause you don't know me

You don't wanna know what's real

And I'm not sorry

For who I am

For what I feel

'Cause you don't know me

Allison Iraheta - You don't know me

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Thirteen year old Harry James Potter, the boy who lived, stared down at his chess pieces in deep concentration, chewing thoughtfully on his lip as he pondered over his next move. His opponent, Madame Poppy Pomfrey, flicked her wand in the direction of the board, silently moving her piece to its assigned position. The game was merely a distraction for young Harry while they waited for his test results, in fact Poppy couldn't remember the last time she had played a game with her patients, and her eyes had never even seen a muggle chess board before. But Harry insisted it was much easier to play than the wizard version and wouldn't require her full attention, not to mention it was quieter. For once Harry had the undivided attention of an adult, someone that actually cared about him, not like those relatives of his. He wasn't supposed to end up with them, in all the letters he'd read left by his parents, not once had there been mention of him moving in with muggles, but of course he had no say in the matter, he rarely ever did.

Jumping his piece over Poppy's, he pushed hers to the side, grateful that in this version the pieces didn't get smashed in two. It was nearly the end of term, and his chest constricted painfully at the thought of returning back to the hell hole he had called his home from the age of one. His left hand absentmindedly went to the chain around his neck where his parents wedding rings hung, as close to his heart as they could get. He'd found them while cleaning out the Dursley's attic, in a wooden trunk that could only be opened by his handprint. "Not long now dear, then you can go get packed, I'm sure you're missing that family of yours." Shrugging his shoulders, he ignored the painful feeling in his stomach at the mention of his impending doom. At least the bruises faded before his annual check-up with the medi-witch, and glamour charms would work if all else failed, they hid the scars at least. It was wrong to lie, he knew that. But in this instance he supposed it would be alright, after his uncle had made him swear not to tell. He'd made it through the first three years of secondary school without a soul finding out, though the house-elves did help with that. They cleaned up his bed most nights, and made quick work of washing the sheets during the unfortunate accidents that sometimes happened as a deterrent against his uncle's cruel ways at night. It still haunted him hundreds of miles away. A small portion of his mind screamed for him to tell, to stop his ongoing conflict at the hands of his caregiver. That small portion was always overruled by a bigger part of his brain, the part that loved to remind him of what his uncle had said.

Nobody would believe him if he tried. It was his fault anyway, everything was. It had been drilled into his head from the age of one, and after twelve years, it had become just a normal part of life. The rules were the worst at home, so many rules. Too many to count on even both hands. The consequences for breaking said rules were unspeakably horrendous, but there's only so many times you can be hit with a belt buckle before it stops hurting, before you can just block out the pain. His professors must think it strange that he's the only student in the entire school to apologize even when it wasn't his doing, and that he's always first to clean something up, before they'd even asked for volunteers, old habitats die hard it seems. In detentions with Snape, he can clean a classroom worth of caldrons in under twenty minutes without magic, he rarely ever used magic outside of class time. Letting out a soft sigh, he shook away the haunting memories, pushing another piece across the board. He'd make sure they couldn't send him back, if it was the last thing he did.

Professor Severus Snape, commonly referred to as the greasy dungeon bat, swept along the stone corridor at top speed, his long black cloak billowing out behind him. Why the headmaster had sent him to babysit the Potter brat in the hospital wing was anyone's guess, they clearly despised each other. Snape couldn't stand the arrogant way the golden boy held himself, too proud to ask for any help in his lessons, too proud to do anything, even magic. He never defended himself, merely waited for a teacher or fellow student to jump to his rescue, like he was much too good to even associate with the bullying scum of the earth, one of which just so happened to his godson. Too much like his blasted father, and those eyes, Lily's eyes, followed Snape with an eerie hollowness, as if they didn't feel, as if they didn't live. Which in itself was a stupid assumption, the damn boy probably had every game under the sun. It wouldn't surprise him if McGonagall's favoured Lion was spoilt to the high heavens, even more so than Draco, which was no easy task.

Slipping unseen into the nauseatingly sterile wing, he pressed himself into the shadows alongside his house rival head, Professor Minerva McGonagall. The child and Poppy appeared to playing some kind of muggle game that looks suspiciously like chess without the moving pieces, what was the fun in that? Potter, the thought of even thinking the boy's first name made him shudder, pushed his wooden piece in the path of two of Poppy's knocking them off to the side. She flicked her wand in the direction of the peculiar board, taking out a solitary knight of her opponent's. Snape couldn't tear his gaze away from the precise precision the teen used when calculating his next move. Those emerald orbs swept uncertainly over the remaining pieces, a small smile that didn't quite reach his eyes hovering slightly on his lips before vanishing, the usual scowl settling back in its rightful place. Hopping over the remaining pieces in a slightly hypnotic manner, he knocked down the king, finally meeting the gaze of the medi-witch. "Checkmate!"

"Professor?" Snape's head shot up, how long had the boy known they were standing there?

"Yes dear?" Rolling his eyes at the sickly sweet tone his colleague used, he stepped from his place against the wall, dropping down onto a nearby bed. "Would you be able to give this to Hedwig please?" Harry's voice was uncertain, his eyes cast down at the bed sheets.

"Of course, I must hurry off to the feast anyway so it's no problem." Taking the letter from the pale boy, she waved off his thanks, disappearing out the door with a stern look to Snape. "Wouldn't you rather be at the feast sir? I'm fine with Madame Pomfrey." Stretching out his legs, he sent the boy a withering glance, itching to wipe the almost arrogant look off his former enemy's son's face. Poppy quickly intervened, rescuing the child from his Professor's wrath. "The results are in, and I'm afraid it's bad news."

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A/N: So what did you think? Feel free to review and let me know how it was! If there's anything I can improve on let me know.

See you next post! :)

nicholosaur


	2. Chapter 2: The Pain Inside

Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter, much to my disappointment!

Thank you to Eve-of-Slytherin for helping me improve the first chapter! Your suggestion was greatly appreciated!

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Go on

Be strong

Try to hold on

I hope this song gives you strength to carry on

In time we'll make this right

And you'll be fine

So hold on

Hold on - Dominic Camany (Cancer Outreach)

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The boy failed to blink, and for a moment Snape thought he was having some kind of seizure, his whole body unnaturally still. "Potter? Potter!? Answer me damn it!" Bringing those hauntingly beautiful eyes to his Professor's face, he finally allowed himself to breath.

"We'll have to do a bone marrow biopsy to confirm the diagnosis, it's not certain until then, I'll spare you the facts until we're certain, after all it wouldn't do any good to scare you before it's definite." He shrugged, he'd been through it all before, they always say the same thing. "We can do it now if you're up to it, get it over and done with?" Snape was sure he saw a small flicker of fear pass over that unnerving gaze, before the shutters went up, and the boy once again became a blank canvas, an unreadable page.

"Okay, if you think it'll help." How Snape wanted to strangle that boy for being so calm while he himself had felt a surge of panic at the medi-witches ninety-eight percent positive diagnosis. If it had been anyone other than the golden boy he would have almost certainly placed a comforting hand on their shoulder, but he just couldn't bring himself to express emotions to the son of his arch-enemy, that was Minerva's job anyway. Poppy shooed him from the room, like a misbehaving child caught in the act. Banished to the corridor, Snape found himself wishing more than ever that he was back in the room with the bane of his existence. He couldn't exactly blame Poppy, he did probably look pretty livid at the boy's lack of response. Why was he so drawn to the stupid brat? It wasn't like he actually cared. But the more he thought about, the more he found himself actually worried for the welfare of the damn runt. Curse that Potter for inheriting his mother's eyes! Rubbing his temple in an effort to expel the headache that had pounced upon him, he glanced towards the door. Why were his years never straight forward?

The pain, oh god the pain. It coursed through him, burrowing deep within his hip. He wouldn't scream though, wouldn't show any sign of weakness, that way they wouldn't have anything to hold against him. It would be over soon, it never lasted too long when his uncle punished him, and he had no doubts that this would be similar. With any luck they'd never have to perform the darn thing again, and he could live out the remainder of his dysfunctional life in peace, with the only damage coming from his less than loving uncle. If his parents were still alive would he still be going through such a harrowing ordeal? Would his uncle still hurt him the way he did when he spent the night at home? It was a question nobody could answer, and a secret he thought he'd never tell.

"Would you like anything to eat my dear?" Poppy offered the young student a selection of foods, becoming more and more concerned as he shot down each suggestion. The boy was thin at the best of times, and she knew it would take a lot more than a year worth of food to bring the boy up to a healthy weight, what did he do during the summer to make himself like that? "Not even some treacle tart? Or maybe a corned beef sandwich?" He gave a faint smile at the thought of Ron's sandwich adventure the very first time they'd met, he didn't know what he'd do without his best mate. "The results should be back within an hour or two, so I'd suggest you stay sitting down for the wait, your hip will be sore for a few days but it's nothing we can't handle with pain medication." Squeezing his hand affectionately, she disappeared into her office to give him space. It was then, in the silence of the ward, that he finally let a single tear escape. Hopefully his plan would work; hopefully he'd never have to leave again.

To say the headmaster was mad would be an understatement. He was furious. The Dursley's, with only three days left of term, had written a note stating they did not wish Harry back for the summer, or any following summer. The plan had young Potter's signature all over it, even Dumbledore knew that Petunia wouldn't abandon her sister's son, not when she knew just how much her blood was needed to protect his life. Dipping his quill into the ink pot, he scribbled a letter back. He would find out whatever was happening with the boy, even if he severed what trust they had gained over the three years he'd known him. Children didn't just decide to move out of their home for no reason, and Dumbledore would figure out the real reason, even if it was the last thing he ever did.

He felt like he was falling, descending deeper and deeper into the blackened pit, with no way out, no escape. Nobody could save him, not even his closest friends. It was like those first years he'd spent in the confines of that miniscule cupboard, boxed in, with no one to tell him it was going to be okay. It was somehow worse now, at least then he didn't have people surrounding him, people that actually seemed to care for once. Surrounded but most definitely alone. Nobody, not even Ron or Hermione could come close to experiencing the shadows that congregated in the darkness of his mind. Maybe one day, in the very distance future, he'd pluck up the courage to tell someone, anyone. But until then he would just try to get away, anyway he could. After all it wouldn't be that hard to hide out until September, even if he had to harm himself to do it.

Madame Poppy Pomfrey watched the boy from the doorway of her office as sleep slowly claimed him, his eyes keeping up their darting madness even during rest. How she wished she could banish away his pain with the flick of a wand, something she had managed to do most other times he had been admitted to her care. Glaring over at Professor Snape as he re-entered the room, she very nearly sent a hex his way as Harry shot up, his breathing quick and uneven. Wincing at the pain that pulsed through him at the fast movement, he scrambled backwards, his face the picture of fear. If Dumbledore hadn't walked in at that moment, she definitely would have cursed the potions master for upsetting her favourite and most frequent patient. Harry furrowed his brows at the collection of adults all staring his way, Poppy with pity, Dumbledore with slight anger, and then Snape with just an air of dislike. Did they know something he didn't? He still hadn't been told exactly what the test was determining, but he had a pretty good guess, he had been through the same tests seven years before after all. It would be the same as it was back then. The pity. The blame. The anger. All pushed his way from the many different people that had come into his life. Some temporary, like the Social Worker that had vowed to protect him, it's amazing what a fat cheque will do to people. Other's, like his primary school teacher, stayed for the full ride, never once giving up. He was grateful for that. Pushing out a small, tortured breath, his eyes lingered on the small tube flashing red in the conjoining office. You didn't need to be a professional to know that was a bad sign, and nothing could hide the glance Poppy gave him as she caught sight of what had fascinated him. No, he thought bitterly to himself, it was definitely a bad sign indeed.

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A/N: So how was it? Good? Bad? Monstrous? ;)

Feel free to review and let me know what you think, and if there's anything that could be improved. I could really use your input guys.


	3. Chapter 3: To Tell Or Not To Tell?

Disclaimer: I think we've all established that I don't own Harry Potter

Thank you to tazzledmuch for your enthusiastic review! I figured I'd post this little chapter to make you happy

Open up the book you beat me with again

Read it off one sentence at a time

I'm tired of all the lines

Convictions and your lies

What right do you have to point at me?

Daughtry - Breakdown

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"It's bad news, isn't it?" Poppy nodded, tears gathering in her eyes. She promised herself she wouldn't cry. It wasn't fair, he was just a child, he had so much life ahead of him. In her entire career at Hogwarts, never before had she had to break such news to a student, especially one so young. How she wished there was some kind of spell or other that would cure him in a heartbeat, it had been her motto since Harry had first landed in the wing during his first year, why must it fail her now? Taking a seat beside him, she took his hand. Why must that boy's life be so complicated?

Severus Snape watched the exchange between medi-witch and Potter, a sense of hatred filling his stomach as he thought of his own childhood, nobody had ever shown him that kindness. Dumbledore gave him a said smile, knowing, as he always did, Snape's thoughts before he himself had even figured them out. Now he'd have to suffer through the golden boy getting everything thrown at his feet, he didn't know whether he could live through the gloating it was sure was bring. "Did you honestly think it would be sunshine and daisies?" His voice came out harsher than he meant, but he didn't have time to feel sorry because in the next moment he was being ushered from the room by Dumbledore as Poppy gave a glare to rival any other, her wand held ready in her hand. Stupid insufferable Potter!

He could almost hear his uncle's words, cold and sinister, mocking him as he received perhaps the worst news of his life for a second time. At least he had an excuse to stay away from home now. "The Leukaemia's back, right?" For once Poppy was speechless, what did he mean again? Had he had this before? How could they have missed it on his record? Something was seriously wrong here, and she was going to find out what. After all how bad could it be?

"Mister Potter? We need to speak about a letter I received from your relatives regarding your housing for the summer." Dumbledore could see Harry's mind working on overdrive as his plan was foiled, what was so bad about his home life? "May I ask why you have such a strong aversion to going home?" The boy shrugged, chewing nervously on the edge of his thumb. He wouldn't tell, wouldn't break. It was Dumbledore who had sent him there in the first place. Maybe if he hadn't none of it would have happened, maybe he could've have a normal childhood. Maybe, just maybe, he could've had a family to call his own. But it wouldn't help to dwell on the past. He couldn't change it now.

It was official, Dumbledore had lost his mind. Even after everything that had happened in the hospital wing, he still had to babysit the brat. Couldn't that stupid old fool get it into his head that Snape couldn't even stand the sight of the damn boy, let alone spending hours at a time with him? It was all Potter's fault, even his relatives couldn't stomach being in the same town as him anymore. Deep down he knew that it was irrational to blame the boy, there had to be another reason the famous Boy-Who-Lived couldn't return to his normal home. Snape would ask, if it wasn't for the fact that the boy had been staring at him for the past half-an-hour, barely moving at all. At least he didn't have the full trio to infuriate him further. If he did, the unforgivable curses would be used to the maximum in the space of two minutes. The real question, he supposed, was why in god's name he became a Professor in the first place?

To tell or not to tell? Dumbledore would most likely send him back regardless of what he chose, the only difference would be the way he was viewed. He couldn't bear the thought of Dumbledore viewing him as a liar. But who else could he tell? McGonagall was out of the question, as was Madame Pomfrey. Hagrid would probably just cry, and the other Professors? Well they barely knew him at all. That just left one man, and the sheer thought of opening up to him brought panic swirling through his body. Would he listen? Or just sneer and walk away as he normally did? Would Snape even believe him? Harry didn't think he could go through anymore rejection, it had always been such a big part of his life. No! The mere thought of becoming the punch line to yet another joke made up his mind for him, he wouldn't subject himself to that again. Not after the last and only time he'd asked for help. The memories made him shudder, why did his uncle favour him as a punching bag? The only reason his aunt even kept him around was so Vernon didn't turn to Dudley. Harry was basically a decoy, a scapegoat to draw attention away from Vernon's flesh and blood. It would be wrong for him to hurt Dudley, his own son. But Harry on the other hand? He was expendable, nobody mattered less than Harry. At least that's what they made him believe. Living with those words drilled into your every waking moment, it made it hard not to believe in the stories they fed him, of orphanages and care homes, where children are treated far worse than young Harry was. He wouldn't go to a care home! No he'd much rather endure the Dursley's. They were far safer than the unknown.

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A/N: You guys like? A little on the short side but I'll try to make the next one slightly longer!

Any ideas on how to improve are welcomed with open arms!

See you tomorrow, nicholosaur


	4. Chapter 4: If Only He Knew

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter universe! Not even a chocolate frog!

Once again I'd like to thank tazzledmuch for being so awesome, your reviews make me smile :)

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Oh you can't hear me cry

See my dreams all die

From where you're standing on your own

It's so quiet here

And I feel so cold

This house no longer feels like home

Ben Cocks – So Cold

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Two days. Two measly days before he was shipped back to hell. He didn't have the energy to fight it anymore, it's not like anybody would listen anyway. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, maybe his uncle would come to his senses. He almost laughed at the thought. He could last six weeks, right? After all, he'd spent most of his life in that house and he was still alive, if just barely. It wouldn't be so bad, at least he had Hedwig. Oh who was he kidding? It was going to be nightmarish. His broken body just couldn't take it anymore, maybe that's what the Leukaemia was trying to tell him, that it was to tired to continue. Ron would be returning to his family, to a home where the biggest punishment was a clip round the ear, and a belt was an article of clothing, not a weapon used against you in a fit of rage. It wasn't Ron's fault his family was so forgiving, he hadn't asked to be born a Weasley. Yet Harry still felt a pang of jealousy every time Molly and Arthur crept up into their conversation, he'd never have what Ron had. He'd trade all the gold in the world for a real family, for someone to love him like his relatives never would. It's not like he killed his own parents, that was Voldemort's doing. How he hated that petty excuse of a man for ripping his family apart. He wasn't even a man. He was a coward. A damn coward. But he'd make him pay, one way or another, he'd definitely make him pay.

Why did everybody mollycoddle the boy? It made Snape sick watching the way they fanned around him, tending to his every need. Potter was sick, not an invalid, the treatment hadn't even started yet. Snape was not without sympathy, it must be a hard time indeed for the teen, but never would he turn into a mother hen like many of the Professors had, it just wasn't in his nature. He'd been brought up with the view that feelings were for those who were weak-minded, and Severus Snape was not weak. He was pretty sure Potter would be basking in the limelight, regardless of the origin. Yet the boy seemed acutely uncomfortable at the centre of everyone's attention, always huddled on the far side of the bed, away from the comforting hands of do-gooders. Every time someone strayed too close, he would flinch back like he'd been branded with a white-hot iron. It infuriated Snape that he couldn't figure out the famous child, what was swirling around in that closed-off mind of his? He wouldn't ask, that would make it seem as though he cared. No, he'd just wait for Potter to approach him himself, and if all else failed there was always the Veritaserum. Even Potter wouldn't be able to counteract that.

Albus Dumbledore sifted through his letters, once again finding one from the Dursley's. Now they had the information about Harry's latest medical emergency, they were well and truly set against taking the boy back for the summer. Pacing back and forth across his office, he failed to notice the green-eyed mystery peering around the edge of the door.

"I won't go back!"

If the man hadn't been so strong hearted, he surely would've jumped at the declaration. How long had he been standing there? "Mr Potter, you don't have a say in the matter! It's the safest place to be right now!"

Harry fought the tears that threatened to break his composure. He would not break, he was not weak! "No! You can't make me!" Spinning on his heels, he scrambled down the staircase, choking back a sob. He would not cry. He would not feel.

"Potter? What on earth is going on?" Snape sneered in his usual manner, not at all sorry for the harsh way he handled the boy. "Did Granger break up with you?"

Potter glared at him, his hands balled into fists by his side. He wanted to punch something, badly, but maybe the potions master wasn't the best target? The great hall would most likely be a better place to unwind, at least there he had distractions. Ignoring the hate filled eyes that bore into his back as he fled from the wing, he quickened his pace to stay as far in front of the Professor as his legs would allow. It was going swimmingly up until the point he entered the crowded hall, where the last of his patience snapped. Malfoy!

"Where've you been Potter? I was sure you'd finally helped us all out and offed yourself, you could've joined those pathetic parents of yours." Harry's eyes flashed with anger, a snarl ripped from his throat. Charging at the smirking boy, he wrapped both hands around his throat, bringing them both crashing to the floor. Voices screamed around him, Draco clawed desperately at his hands. Don't cry! Don't think! Don't feel! His teeth clenched as he tried to gain control, his hands slackening off. He couldn't even attack anybody right. If it was his uncle, Malfoy would be a heap on the ground, barely conscious. No! He wouldn't be like him! He wouldn't stoop so low. It wasn't right! It would never be right! Releasing his grip, he stumbled backwards towards the door, his teeth biting down so hard on his lip it drew blood. Why couldn't he have a normal life? Why couldn't he be loved?

Snape, his eyes wide with shock, couldn't bring himself to react. Potter? Meek and mild Potter? Had attacked a student? His student? It was almost too much to believe. What had set off the clearly distressed boy? It wasn't like he'd been that riled in the hospital wing. Shaking off the leaden feeling in his stomach, he rushed after the teen, all set to take hundreds of points from Gryffindor house.

It wasn't until he reached the ward that it really struck him that something was off. The boy wasn't crying, in fact he didn't even look remotely upset. If anything, he appeared to be bored. Fury rose inside him, how dare the brat act as if nothing had happened? He'd almost killed Malfoy! A small voice piped up in his mind, reminding him that the boy had stopped himself, that he had more than likely fled, not for fear of being reprimanded, but out of fear of having to lay his eyes upon his victim. If Snape hadn't been so angry at the whole situation, he probably would have praised the boy for stopping when he did. Instead he'd have to punish him before Malfoy told his father a rather distorted version of the story. But was expulsion an option? Clearly the boy was unstable but to kick him out completely? It would solve his problems, but did he really want the boy to leave? What would Lily say if she were here? He knew, deep down, that she would fight for that child with every bone in here body. He would try to do the same.

He was dead for sure. They'd kick him out, and then he'd never get away. He was always getting himself in trouble, especially with adults. Nothing he did was right. If he fought back it was wrong. If he did nothing it was wrong. Why couldn't they make up their minds and leave him in peace? He was sick of it all, his whole life was a series of screw ups, one after the other. Even the inside of his body didn't work properly. He'd never felt love, or innocence. The shadows of shame followed him wherever he went. Tainted. Impure. Broken. It wasn't fair, he just wanted to be normal. To be able to feel clean for once in his life. His entire being was a mask, a wall built up to separate himself from those around him. If you didn't care, you wouldn't feel. Death would have been welcomed at that moment in time, you can't hurt if you're dead. Maybe one day he'd be able to live again, to not have to hide behind lies and twisted truths. But until that day he would carry on. A soldier in a futile battle. Hated. Unwanted. Unloved.

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A/N: So was it any good? I tend to ramble, but don't worry he'll be rescued soon enough ;)

Hit review and let me know if anything desperately needs improving, or if you'd like to see something in here that would fit in with the storyline. I'm open to pretty much anything.

Hopefully I'll get round to posting another chapter tomorrow, but if not I'll put up two on Friday as I'm out pretty much all day tomorrow with school and Cadets. Either way there will be another update by Friday at the latest!

Thanks, nicholosaur :)


	5. Chapter 5: They Just Don't Understand

Disclaimer: Harry Potter will never be mine! I've come to terms with that!

A/N: The road leading to my house is so icy that the mother couldn't get her car out to drive me to cadets so I thought I'd post another chapter instead

Thank you tazzledmuch, your reviews make my day :)

And thank you to all the amazing people who followed and favourited!

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Nobody knows

Nobody knows but me

That I sometimes cry

If I could pretend that I'm asleep

When my tears start to fall

I peak out from behind these walls

I think nobody knows

Nobody knows

Pink – Nobody Knows

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To say Snape was angry would be an understatement. Potter had once again slipped from his watchful eyes, and was now god knows where, doing god knows what. Why couldn't he just do as he was told? The damn kid was just asking for trouble the way he gallivanted around. Luckily Lucius had been a little more forgiving after he was assured that Potter would not get away lightly with the attack of Draco, so Snape at least didn't have to bother with a disgruntled former death eater with more dark arts artifacts than Snape had ever seen before. But he still had the foreboding task of hunting down the missing brat, who so far hadn't been anywhere useful or obvious. None of the Gryffindor's confessed to seeing him in the tower, and he was quite frankly running out of ideas and patience, the boy was thirteen not three! Surely simple instructions like stay within the hospital wing were easy enough to follow? It wasn't like he'd asked him to swim the length of the lake, or battle the giant squid. Maybe he should have told the teen to explore the castle? That way he'd have stayed put and Snape wouldn't have had to give up his evening to find the tearaway.

He actually felt sorry for the relatives that had to deal with Potter's antics for ten consecutive years, he was ready to strangle the boy after only three. It wasn't just the boy's uncanny ability to slip unseen past even the greatest wizards and witches of the age, it was the strange fact that regardless of what troublesome event happened in the castle, you could be damn sure that Potter would be in the middle of it, never had Snape seen such an unfortunate set of coincidences in his life. Every year there was something new that the trio of nitwits managed to find themselves caught up in. If it wasn't protecting a rare stone of great power, it was killing a basilisk, or freeing a convicted murderer. Blowing out a frustrated breath, he halted at the unnerving sound of an angered howl, coming from somewhere nearby. It wasn't a full moon, which ruled out Lupin instantly, so who could it be? Slowly approaching the half hidden door, wand at the ready, he said a silent prayer. Hopefully he wasn't about to meet his death. Hopefully he could kill the thing before it killed him.

"Albus do you think it wise to send the boy back to those muggles? They clearly do not care for him!" Professor Minerva McGonagall lengthened her stride to keep up with the aging headmaster, her hands wringing nervously out in front of her. "Maybe it would be best to keep him here? Or perhaps at the Weasley's? You know how Molly adores the boy." Her words seemed to bounce off the headmaster's ears as he continued on his way to the great hall, all set on having one final feast for the year. Scowling at the white-haired old fool, McGonagall fluttered through the doors and into her seat, if he wouldn't speak to her she'd just have to find someone who would.

Harry Potter squeezed his eyes shut against the terrifying memories, his hands clawing desperately at his face in an attempt to free himself from the visions. A strange sound echoed through the room, and it took him a second to realise it was coming from him. Cracking open his eyelid a touch, he breathed out a gust of air, finally able to relax. It had seemed so real, so very real, but it wasn't, it couldn't have been. His vision strayed to the broken lock on Lupin's trunk, hadn't that been where the Bogart was? Bogart? Now it made sense, he'd somehow released that thing. But where was it now? Shaking off the lingering presence of fear, his head whipped around at the sound of the sound of the door, wasn't he the only one who knew about this room? Suppressing the panic that coursed through his veins, he bowed his head. Readying himself for the punishment that would most likely follow. At least, he thought bitterly to himself, at least it couldn't be as bad as home.

"Potter? It was you?!" Snape surveyed the scene, his gaze resting on Potter's scratched face, blood slowly dripping down the boy's face. "What did you do? You could've done some serious damage!" The teen didn't answer, his eyes cast to the floor. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Snape swiftly approached the cowering child, barely keeping his balance as his charge hightailed out the door. Would Dumbledore mind if he hexed the damn Lion? Or at the very least used a sticking charm to keep him in one place for more than a few minutes? It had worked extremely well when Draco was younger. Groaning as he followed the trouble maker towards the great hall, he sincerely hoped he wasn't going to attack anymore students, the day was bad enough as it was.

The great hall was bustling with end of term excitement, and when Harry entered barely anybody looked his way, engrossed in their own conversations. If it was anybody else, they probably would've felt even the slightest bit forgotten, but Harry was all too used to the uncaring nature of people at the dinner table, he'd spent most of his life being ignored by his so called family. Sliding into a vacated seat at the far end of the table, he nibbled at the edge of a biscuit, his head rested on the wooden table. It was too crowded for his liking, much too crowded. He should've stuck to his earlier plan and just hidden out in the common room, or maybe the library. The others would be sleeping early tonight, and he was all ready to make his breakout through Honey-Dukes cellar if Dumbledore still demanded his return to the Dursley's. They'd never find him out in the wilderness, and if worst comes to worst he could always find his way back to his parents old house, even if it was half collapsed from that night twelve years ago. It would be much better than that cupboard he'd been forced to live in, and besides, it wasn't like anybody cared where he went as long as it was away from Hogwarts.

It wasn't the first time Dumbledore had witnessed Snape in such an angered state, but it had definitely been a while since the man had gotten himself so worked up. He watched as the Professor approached his star student, grabbing him roughly by the arm. A stunned silence filled the air as every window simultaneously smashed, littering the room with shards of glass. Snape let go of the exhausted boy, shock evident on his face. With a flick of his wand, Dumbledore fixed the panes, standing quickly from his seat. "Mr Potter my office now!" They boy didn't seem to hear, his eyes transfixed on a spot in the distance. "Harry?" A strangled sob escaped the teen's mouth, his arms wrapped tightly around his chest. Shaking his head, he tore from the room, leaving behind a trail of whispers. Shooing the potions master after him, Dumbledore addressed the crowd, knowing if anybody could help the boy, it was his most-trusted colleague.

Don't cry! Don't cry! Don't cry! Whatever you do don't cry! His heart pounded painfully in his ears as he wound round the maze of corridors, his breathing coming out in short painful gasps. They'd kick him out for sure now, and it was entirely his fault. Swiping angrily at his dampened eyes, he assessed the damage done to his face in the cracked mirror of his dorm room. Angry red lines, some beaded with blood, twisted his looks. No wonder Dumbledore had been so concerned. Shrinking down his trunk and Hedwig's cage with a handy spell Hermione had taught him last year, he covered himself with that handy invisibility cloak, grateful Lupin had given back the map. It was cowardly to run, he knew that, but he just made everyone's life a misery, they'd be so much better off without him. Hedwig would catch up with him eventually, and he'd obviously be back in time for the next school year, though he shuddered at the thought of the punishment that would be dished his way. Slipping silently down the hidden passageway, he managed to make it out of the shop with nobody being any wiser to his location. Now to lay low for six weeks. Staring back at the castle in the distance, he sent a whispered goodbye its way. Knowing there was no guarantee that he'd ever set foot in there again. At least he was free at last, and nobody, not even Dumbledore, was going to take that away.

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A/N: You know you want to hit that review button ;) But seriously if there's any problems don't hesitate to tell me, I aim to please.

The next couple of chapters will be up tomorrow as I finish school two and a half hours early on Fridays.

I hope you're enjoying it so far, and if there's anything you want to see in here just ask :)

See you tomorrow, nicholosaur


	6. Chapter 6: Operation Boy-Wonder

Disclaimer: I still own nothing from Harry Potter

A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay! My laptop deleted windows so I had to wait for the disk to arrive to reinstall it so I could actually use it again, and all the chapters I'd written got deleted so I'll have to work extra hard to get some more written for you amazing people. It may also have a few spelling mistakes as Microsoft Word seems to have disappeared from my laptop so I'm stuck with WordPad.

It's pretty short tonight but I should (fingers crossed) have a longer chapter up tomorrow.

Thanks as always for the review tazzledmuch, you are an awesome human being. :)

* * *

I'm still undefeated

With my back against the ropes

Still undefeated

You can knock me down with body blows

But you cannot take my Hope

Daughtry - Undefeated

* * *

Harry was cold, so very cold. He once again cursed the typical British Summer that tore at his skin, seeping deep under his bones with every movement. He was being irrational, he knew that. But the thought of returning back to hell compelled him forward, he wouldn't go back there, not again. It had been two weeks since the heart-clenching diagnosis, and previous experience told him that the longer he left it, the less chance he'd have of beating it. Yet a small portion of his mind questioned whether he really wanted to survive, whether he wanted to be the saviour of the wizarding world a second time. It was a lot to put on the shoulders of a thirteen year old who had yet to experience his first kiss, let alone defeat one of the most powerful wizards of all time. What if he did survive only to be killed by Voldemort himself at a later date? Or what if it came back a third time and took his life before he'd had time to celebrate a victory over the death of his enemy? Thoughts swirled around his head, unanswerable by even the best of wizards. Only time could tell what would happen in the future, and huddled inside a less than comforting cave, Harry wasn't sure he even wanted to know.

Molly Weasley stared distractedly at the flickering flames, a tissue clutched too tightly in her left hand, the right holding the chair arm hostage in a vice-like grip. Arthur had yet to return home, insisting his time would be more well spent helping out at Hogwarts, trying to find the famous Boy-Wonder. Molly shuddered at the thought of calling him that, but Severus had insisted on naming the search 'Operation Boy-Wonder', and nothing anybody said could sway his mind. At least he got some enjoyment out of the situation. They wouldn't let Molly join, apparently she was too emotionally involved with the child, though she couldn't think why they thought that. All she'd done was attempted to attack Severus for his obvious lack of empathy and compassion for the clearly troubled teen. Harry was like family to her, and the thought of him out there alone brought a fresh set of tears tumbling down her cheeks. Swiping at the pesky waterdrops, she failed to notice the quiet form of her youngest son skulk out the door. If the adults couldn't find his best friend, he'd just have to do it himself.

It was hopeless. Snape knew it before they'd even began searching, and it was becoming more and more apparent as the evening wore on. There had to be thousands of places the boy could have escaped to around Hogsmead, not to mention the countless vehicles that passed on a road a few miles to the west. If he'd somehow managed to hitch a ride, they'd never find him. Blowing strands of hair from his unusually pale face, Snape carried on his fruitless attempt at locating the missing boy. If the disease didn't kill the stubborn brat, he sure as hell would. Potter infuriated him enough already without sending on a wild goose chase through the countryside, how did a thirteen year old manage to stay this well hidden for over two weeks anyway? The first time Snape had runaway, his father had found him by the third day, and made it clear he would not tolerate any more disruptions in his work schedule for pathetic childish pranks. He wouldn't even be out there searching in the first place if Dumbledore hadn't insisted, rather forcefully, that he help the other, more distraught people to find the missing Lion. Kicking away another pesky plant, he pushed forward, rain dripping down his back. The kid was definitely going to get it if Snape found him, he'd make sure of that.

Leaving the Burrow was a mistake, even Ron could see that. Rain pelted his skin, slicking his hair to the side of his face. His mother would no doubt be panicking by then, if she'd even noticed. Ever since Harry left he'd been practically invisible. Did everybody just forget it was his bestfriend out there? Not that you'd really know it anyway, especially after Harry had just taken off without so much as a goodbye. Ron knew he didn't like his home-life, but he hadn't realised it had gotten so bad, wouldn't his friend have mentioned something? Rubbing at his stinging eyes, he almost collided with a blackened figure, his heart leaping into his throat. Stumbling backwards onto a cluster of branches, he closed his eyes for his almost inevitable death. Instead, however, he found himself face to face with his most hated professor. "Snape?"

Why did there have to be a storm in the July? Shouldn't it be sunny and warm? As soon as the thought entered his mind, Harry almost cracked a smile. Sun in Britain? That would be a miraculous sight. Breathing on his hands in a half-hearted attempt at warming them, he wiped droplets from his lenses, shivering against the dampened rock. His relatives would no doubt be tucking in to a nice hot meal, while he snacked on a few measly stale crackers he'd found at the bottom of his trunk. His stomach growled in protest at the miniscule meal, a whole year of proper food had awoken his deprived system.

Sighing tiredly to himself, he rested his head against his knees, trying his hardest to ignore the coldness that even seemed to infect his blood. Was this what it felt like to die? To have his body turn to ash from inside out. A fire was raging on through him, burning everything in its path. He knew it wouldn't be long before it got too much to extinguish, but by that time he'd probably have died of hunger anyway. Letting out a quiet howl, he bashed his head backwards against the hard surface. He deserved the pain, and there was a comforting feeling to the agony, it was familiar in his ever-changing world. Tears threatened to break his wall, threatened to flood the damn. He would not break though, would not fall. He was undefeated, and he planned to stay that way for a long time.

* * *

A/N: It could be better but I'm afraid It'll have to do until tomorrow. As you can see I'm British and take great delight in criticising the weather of my country ;)

Review and let me know how suckish it actually was ;) I'm open to any ideas to make it better :)

Seeya next post, nicholosaur


	7. Chapter 7: Can You Keep A Secret?

Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter (I'm working on it!)

A/N: It's the Christmas holidays tomorrow :D Only one day left of school and then two weeks off! So expect multiple updates a day as I have nothing better to do with my life ;)

tazzledmuch you really are an amazing person! You'll have to wait and see how Snape turns out ;) He's such a fun character to develop!

To all the people that followed and favourited, I give you my thanks :)

Anyways onwards with the story!

* * *

Got a secret

Can you keep it?

Swear this one you'll save

Better lock it in your pocket

Taking this one to the grave

If I show you then I know you

Won't tell what I said

'Cause two can keep a secret

If one of them is dead

The Pierces - Secret

* * *

"Mr Weasley? Do tell why you are wandering at this hour?" Snape's eyes were narrowed, his arms folded across his chest in an authoritative manner. Why did teenagers have to be so exasperating? Maybe when the whole battle was over he'd resign from teaching and open his own potions shop. It could be called 'Severus Snape's Brew and Bake', that sounded good, sort of. That was if Dumbledore even allowed him to leave, the man knew too much and Snape wouldn't put it past him to use some information against the potions master. Refocusing on the redhead that always seemed to be one of the main focus points if Potter got himself in trouble. Were they somehow clued into each other's actions even if they were apart? It sure seemed that way sometimes.

Ron shifted under the man's harsh gaze, not quiet comfortable with being in the spotlight. He had hoped to stay hidden, but Snape would definitely tell his mother, and then he'd be on gnome duty for the rest of the Summer. "I was looking for my dad?" He could tell instantly that Snape didn't buy it, it had sounded so convincing in his head. Bowing his head to wait for the rant that the Professor would no doubt deliver as he had so many times before in his lessons, but none came. Peeking up at the dungeon bat, Ron's shoulders slumped. "I wanted to find Harry, I've been following Hedwig but I lost her in the storm."

The Proffesor nodded in the direction of the castle, a scowl present on his face. "Your father's in the castle, tell him I sent for you to help with the search, and stay indoors!" Watching as the teen scampered off, Snape slowly shook his head. He was getting too old for this.

When Harry woke after a few unrestful hours, his whole body ached, and blood had dried around his nose from yet another nosebleed. He could try to find a nearby potions shop, but he wasn't sure exactly how they would affect the Leukaemia, and anyway that'd put him out in the open and he really didn't want that. It wouldn't be long before he could return to his true home anyway, and then he'd have an entire year before he would disappear again, maybe to a warmer place. That's if he wasn't dead by then. It was morbid to think about, but it was definitely a possibility, it always had been. Ever since he was first diagnosed it had been lurking in the shadows, just as the disease itself had been for years. Lying dormant, waiting for just the right moment to strike. At least this time he wouldn't be trapped in a hospital ward with other children that looked at him as if he was an alien, at least this time he'd have visitors. That was if Hermione and Ron even still wanted to be his friend, hopefully they would though. Stretching off his stiff limbs, he tucked into another meal of stale crackers, grateful they had at least stayed dry. Just a few more weeks and he could eat properly again. Just a few more weeks and he'd be home.

How Hedwig knew where he had taken shelter from the storm was anyone's guess, but Snape couldn't deny he was more than happy to see the owl, wherever she was, Potter couldn't be far off. She was restless, and quite intent on causing Snape as much pain as possible until he followed back out into the rain, once again subjecting himself to the chilling temperature. He would definitely be making Potter buy him ingredients for the truck load of pepper-up potions he would need after the damn search. The boy was certainly in for a lot of homework when they returned to the school, Snape would make sure of that. The other's would probably fuss over him, something Snape knew wouldn't help the situation at all. It would make Potter think that running was acceptable, which it most definitely was not. He would just have to speak to the child before anybody else could influence his beliefs, it was after all for the best.

Thunder. So loud yet so comforting. It mirrored the conflict raging inside the small thirteen year old's mind, something no one should have to go through, let alone a child. Harry would never bring someone else into his crumbling world though, not now, not after all he had seen. One slip of the tongue and someone he cared about could end up in a hospital bed, barely hanging on to life. He'd witnessed it once before, and the thought of it happening again was too much to bear. No, he'd just wait it out in silence, as he had done for years, it was the much safer option. Wiping away a tickle of blood from his frozen nostrils, he slid deeper inside his shelter, his gaze trained on the pounding rain. The call of an owl pulled him from his thoughts. Hedwig?

Why did he ever think following an owl would be a good idea? They'd been moving for at least an hour, and Snape's boots squelched uncomfortably with every step. If they didn't find the boy soon, he would definitely be frying up the bird for a campfire meal. The animal hooted, flying with more determination towards a small mountain cave. Would the boy really be hauled up in that? Lengthening his strides, the man attempted to keep in close proximity of the bird, hoping Potter was in this location. If not, he didn't know what he'd do. Shaking droplets from his hair as he reached the cave mouth, he audibly sighed, anger flashing through him at the teen in front of him, the child's face void of any emotion. "Mr Potter where in god's name have you been all this time?!"

Harry brushed away a small tear, flinching back into the rock, would Snape really hurt him? Something deep in his mind made him doubt it, a distant memory made him recall a gentle Snape, one that would never harm a child. But could he be trusted? Nobody else had ever been able to take the burden of such a harsh truth, but maybe this man was different? He certainly seemed to have a harder shell, not quite unlike Harry's own exterior. But was the interior just the same? Was he troubled as well? Though Harry couldn't quite believe it, the thought sent a surge running through his system, telling one person wouldn't hurt, right? And anyway, Snape looked far tougher than Vernon and his friends. Making up his mind, he took a deep shuddering breath. "Sir? Can you keep a secret?"

* * *

A/N: Like? Or hate? ;) Your thoughts are valued and appreciated so let me know what you think!

I know this one's also short, but it is harder to write when the characters are all over the place, so when they return to Hogwarts it should get longer.

The next chapter should be up tomorrow!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur


	8. Chapter 8: To Snape's House We Go

Disclaimer: Harry Potter will sadly never be mine!

A/N: This one's up a bit late but I got caught up on watching films on Netflix so I do apologise! I hope you enjoy, and don't find it too bad :)

On with the story!

* * *

When will the cycle stop

When will the story end

This is where I get lost

I can't go there anymore

It's too hard to ignore the signs

Where do these tears come from

It feels like they'll never dry

What have we both become

We are strangers in time

Lifehouse - I want you to know

* * *

For once Snape was speechless, his gaze unfocused, not really seeing. The boy, the infuriating brat, Potter's very own spawn, had been abused? The pieces seemed to unfold before him. All the signs, the fear mistaken for arrogant pride. No wonder the child had been so adamant in staying at Hogwarts for the Summer, he clearly wasn't wanted at his relatives house. But how had no one noticed? Or even suspected something wasn't quite right? It just didn't make any sense, and Snape was definitely going to get to the bottom of it before Dumbledore so readily shipped Potter back to what could only be refered to as hell. Even his own upbringing wasn't as monstrous as the one the teen had described to him, and he was more than sure that was only half of it. How long had the boy been carrying around such a burden? It would have crushed Snape long before he had turned thirteen if he'd had to bear such a heavy weight. But Potter just seemed to treat it like it was normal for him, and that infuriated Snape more than it should, was he actually beginning to care for the brat? Surely not, Snape cared for no one. So why did he feel a small thread of guilt weaving its way into his subconscious at the thought of all the child had been subjected to? He, of course, knew the answer, and try as he might to forget about it, it would follow him around for years to come. He could've saved the child, but instead he watched him burn.

The warmth of the familiar castle burrowed deep into his soul, his shoulders feeling lighter at the prospect of never having to return to the Dursley's again. Snape had been arguing with Dumbledore for the past twenty minutes, and though he tried to focus on the chess board in front of him, Harry couldn't help but eavesdrop on the conversation happening in the office adjoined to the hospital wing. Apparently Snape had been much too angry to remember a simple silencing spell, not that Harry really minded, he'd rather hear what they had to say about him anyway. Listening to the way the man recalled the tale told to him, Harry couldn't help but feel betrayed, he had promised he wouldn't tell! Of course the teenager should've known that as a Professor, Snape couldn't really keep it to himself, but it would have been nice to actually be asked whether he felt comfortable with the entire staff population plus a few added extras knowing about his past. Thank god he didn't tell him all of what had happened over the years. It wasn't fair, had he done something to deserve such a life? Would it be different if he had spoken out sooner rather than leaving it to fester and poison his mind? One day he'd maybe find a way to answer the swirling questions, but at that moment in time the only thing he could do was hope and pray Snape won the escalating shouting match, if not he really didn't know what he'd do.

When the old man had first suggested Snape take the boy, the potions master thought it was some kind of joke, only the headmaster wasn't laughing, and now Snape had gotten himself stuck with his sworn enemy's son for the rest of the holidays while the boy received treatment for the muggle disease that was so rare in the wizarding world, they hadn't even thought about creating a potion to counteract it. So not only would he be babysitting a thirteen year old, he'd be babysitting a sick thirteen year old who would most likely complain his entire stay. Of course Snape was not without compassion for the suffering boy, but the fact still remained that the child was the spawn of the blasted James Potter, and that wasn't something he could just overlook because of this new finding, old habits die hard. Just as long as the boy stay out of his way, they'd get along just fine. They had to, for Lily's sake.

"Why can't I stay here? It'll be a lot more convenient, and I can cook all my own meals!" Harry tried one last attempt at changing the headmaster's mind, his trunk already loaded into the boot of Snape's car. He still hadn't figured out why they weren't just flooing to the manor, it would make a whole lot more sense than driving across country, but Snape had yet to divulge that information, so he was stuck with guessing the reason. He was unsure as to whether the Professor even owned a drivers-license, after all why would he need one at Hogwarts? And the thought of getting in a car driven by a teacher that wasn't exactly fond of him, made Harry sick to his stomach, why couldn't he just stay at the castle? Sending up a silent prayer, he fastened his seatbelt around himself, nibbling worriedly on his bottom lip. He didn't even believe in God, but at that moment in time he felt like he could use all the help he could get.

If it wasn't for the instant black coffee in his system, Snape would surely have never made it so far along the motorway, and though service station coffee wasn't exactly the best, it gave him the boost he needed to carry on. Potter slept restlessly on the back seat, waking every few minutes before nodding off again, never keeping his eyes closed for long. They should have just flooed, Snape became acutely aware of that fact after countless bathroom breaks and food stops. At least they could rely on Little Chef or Greggs to provide a relatively nutritious meal, you couldn't go wrong with a Greggs cheese and onion pasty. Rolling his shoulders in an attempt to ease the uncomfortable ache, Snape stiffled a yawn. Only another hundred or so miles to go and they'd be home, but there wouldn't be much time to rest before Potter was carted off to Saint Mungo's to receive his first round of Chemotherapy, and of course have the Hickman Line inserted. The mere thought of it sent chills down his spine, couldn't the kid ever catch a break?

* * *

A/N: So what do you think? Review and let me know what you think :) I'm open to any suggestions on how to make it better!

The next chapter will be up sometime today after I decide to get up, as it's 00:44 right now in Britain so I'll most likely stay in bed until at least 12:00 ;)

See you all at the next chapter, nicholosaur :)


	9. Chapter 9: Let The Treatment Begin

Disclaimer: Nope, Harry Potter still does not belong to any part of me!

A/N: This was supposed to go up yesterday, but I spent the day playing sims, and talking to the boyfriend so I'm sorry to have neglected you! On the plus side I'm currently working on the next chapter so it should be finished by later tonight :)

I'm amazed by the amount of people who are actually following this, I hadn't expected such a big response! But I'm not complaining, you guys are great ;)

* * *

It's gonna take a long time to love

It's gonna take a lot to hold on

It's gonna be a long way to happy

Left in the pieces that you broke me into

Torn apart but now I've got to

Keep on rolling like a stone

'Cause it's gonna be a long, long way to happy

Pink - Long way to happy

* * *

It was screaming that roused Snape from his sleep so early in the morning. A heart-wrenching, terrified sound that could only be coming from one place, Potter. The boy was a tangle of sheets and blankets, his face scrunched in unimaginable pain, the rancid scent of urine clinging in the air. Never had Snape had to deal with this sort of thing, he left that to his prefects, most of the younger students were too scared to approach him anyway, not that he'd have known what to do if they had. He was the dreaded potions master, the greasy haired dungeon bat, barely any of the first years in his own house trusted him, and the pool of students of any age outwith his house that liked him was practically none existent. Yet here he was, faced with a boy he felt he should hate, but the thread of guilt nestled in his mind grew with every thought of the hatrid he had pushed towards the boy since he layed eyes on him for the second ever time at the sorting ceremony. It was the child he loathed, not really, it was the boy's father. Damn that perfect James Potter, first stealing away his beloved Lily, and now leaving him with a broken child. It was as if even after death James was insistent of making Snape's life a misery, and at that moment in time he felt as if he wholly deserved it. He'd failed Harry, failed to keep the promise he had made the very first and last time he held the boy as a baby. Not only that, he had also failed Lily, sweet, innocent Lily, why must she have been taken. He vowed to set things straight, for the panicked boy writhing around on a soaked mattress, it was the least he could do.

The trip to the hospital was as Harry had predicted, painful. He tenderly touched the bandage covering part of the Hickman Line, shuddering at the thought of it being under his skin. It was a lot easier to handle when he was six, he didn't really understand back then. Now though, the doctor insisted on explaining everything in great detail, and for a second time that day he wished the man would stop talking and let him retreat back to the relative safety of the potions master's manor, at least it was quiet there. Sneaking a glance at his new guardian, he almost managed a smile at the expression on his face, almost. The line connected to his chest pumped toxic chemicals through his system, killing not only the bad cells, but also the good ones. His stomach churned rebelliously from a mixture of chemo and apprehension, he knew it wouldn't be long before his body caught up with the hazardous material and attempted to dispel it from his body, bile rose in his throat at the thought, he didn't want to be sick. Raising his eyebrows at Snape's blatant boredom with the doctor's persistent chant of things not even relevant to Harry's treatment, he feigned sleep for the professor's benefit. After all it wouldn't hurt to get on his good side.

A week, an entire week. Seven whole days of staying in the hospital to have toxins forced through his veins in an attempt to get him healthy, how on earth would Potter cope? He had a hard enough time sleeping on his own, and now he was slap-bang in the middle of a busy hospital, filled with more noise than the great hall at the sorting ceremony. Snape was also unsure of how they were going to tackle the child's nighttime problem, and though he knew it would embarrass the boy greatly, he had set up a meeting with the paediatrician to find out if there was any suitable treatment to aid them both when he returned to the manor. A small child in the room beside them let out a few screamed words to his mother, and Snape once again cursed that St. Mungo's didn't have the facilities to treat Potter at such short notice, he hated muggle hospitals.

Rubbing the back of his neck as he watched his new charge fling down the comic book in frustration, Snape couldn't help but feel sorry for the teen, Potter clearly wasn't enjoying being confined to a bed for most of the day, in fact he was pretty sure they were only allowing an hour or two for him to shower and stretch his legs before he was back to the mattress prison. Snape would have insisted the boy be allowed to at least visit the games room, but the intensity of the chemo meant on the off-chance he actually had enough energy left to walk around, he would probably be too nauseous to actually play anything anyway, he'd just have to make do with the outdated comics they'd found in the reception area. Glancing around to make sure nobody was watching, Snape conjured Potter's most beloved quidditch book, tossing it over to the child. That'd kill at least ten minutes, and then they'd just have to find a way to get through the other one-hundred and fifty-eight hours, they'd only managed to get through the first ten because of the preperation for the treatment, but now it was just waiting, something neither of them was good at. At least Potter had his own room, that would probably be the highlight of his entire week.

Harry was sick. Sick of hospitals, sick of doctors and needles, and most definitely sick of being sick. It had been two days since they arrived, and he was sure that everything he'd ever eaten had made an appearance in a variety of places, his favourite being on the head of an intern that bent down to retrieve a pen, even Snape had laughed at that. So far he'd reread Quidditch Through The Ages seventy-four times, and it would've been seventy-five if Snape hadn't snatched it away after Harry had managed to recite the entire book without even opening it, it's not like there was anything else to do. He couldn't even remember how he got through it when he was younger, no doubt by colouring, he loved to colour when he was little. Or maybe reading, though the hospital's novel collection severely needed updating, half of the books had been so badly scribbled over you could barely make three words on a page, and that really wasn't a good way to rest when you had to squint to figure out a sentence. Not only that, but there was a kid with a broken leg that wouldn't stop wheeling up and down the corridor, and his persistent chanting was getting on both Harry's and guardian's last nerve. There was a mutual feeling of annoyment, and Harry knew that Snape was itching to break the kid's other leg to keep him away for at least a few days.

He had now met every single staff member on the ward, and knew most of them by name. His paediatrician, Doctor Manark, had been very understanding when Snape had explained Harry's problem, and head suggested some nighttime protection to help him cope, the thought made him cringe. He didn't even know how Snape had found out, he was sure the house elf wouldn't have told, and there was nobody else. At least he hadn't been teased yet, he wouldn't put it past Snape to do something like that, whether he was ill or not. Turning his attention back to the chessboard a nurse had happily supplied for him, Harry took another turn, pushing a piece towards a square without much enthusiasm. It wasn't as good without an opponent, and Snape had disappeared twenty minutes ago without so much as an explanation or goodbye, so he was stuck absentmindedly pushing pieces around, not really playing at all. It could be worse though, he knew that. He could be with the Dursley's. He'd take this over his relatives anyday, it was far safer.

When Snape finally returned to the hospital with some of Potter's things, it was to a terrified child, his breathing fast and pained. His eyes swept across the room in a panicked manner, his hands balled up into fists around the blanket. The sight shocked Snape to the core, what on earth had happened to the child? "Potter? Potter what is it?" Gaining no response, he slowly approached the bed, hands held up in a surrendering gesture. "Harry it's me, it's Snape, nobody's going to hurt you!"

An anguished cry escaped the boy's clamped lips, tears sliding down his cheeks despite his best efforts to keep them at bay. Shaking his head, Harry scrambled away from the potions master, tangling himself in the tubes that hooked him to the poison. Don't think! Don't feel! Don't love! It all gets taken away in the end.

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A/N: Well there we go, another chapter for you awesome people! If you would like to see more of someone or something just ask, I'd be happy to accommodate!

The next one will be up soon :)

Thanks, nicholosaur


	10. Chapter 10: Two More Days

Disclaimer: Last time I checked I didn't own the Harry Potter universe

A/N: Only four days until Christmas! 2014 has gone so fast!

Thanks once again to tazzledmuch for being my loyal reviewer, your thoughts are greatly appreciated :)

Anyway here's the latest chapter :)

* * *

It's like a storm

That cuts a path

It breaks your will

It feels like that

You think you're lost

But you're not lost on your own

You're not alone

Rascal Flatts - I won't let go

* * *

"Harry? Come on mate wake up!" Groaning tiredly, Harry cracked open his eyes, once again grateful Snape had slipped him a dreamless sleep potion, the nightmares were getting worse by the day. Ron stared down at him expectantly, his red hair still distinguishable without his glasses. Snape had, of course, made himself scarce, not that Harry could really blame him after the hell he'd put the man through in the last few days. Stretching his arms in an attempt to relieve the achy feeling, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, painfully aware of the tube protruding from his chest, he always seemed to knock it in his sleep. The nurses had threatened to tie him down if he did it again, and though he thought they were joking, he always made sure to sleep in awkward positions in order to avoid the tube. Refocusing on his bestfriend, Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. What on earth was Ron doing at a muggle hospital? Surely he had more important things to do than visit a spewing thirteen year old, whether they were friends or not.

Ron gave him a giant grin, leaning close to his ear. "Mum's here, wouldn't leave Dumbledore alone until he allowed her to visit!" He turned towards the corridor where they could hear muffled voices, clearly trying to talk in a whisper. "Snape's trying to fend her off, she's been giving him a right earful." Sliding down next to the palefaced boy, he pulled out a small strange-looking box. "I found this in Diagon Alley, on one of the stalls! It's supposed to be some sort of game, but I couldn't figure it out so I thought you'd have more luck, and if all else fails we can just owl Hermione, she's been awfully worried." Oblivious to his friend's obvious curiosity as to how he didn't seem bothered by the clinical feeling of the hospital, Ron continued to babbled on, only stopping to shove another sweet in his mouth, or listen to the two adults arguing outside the door. "So I hear you're gonna be staying with Snape for the summer? I don't envy you mate, the guy's a nutjob."

After finally pacifying the redheaded mother hen, Snape collapsed into his chair beside Potte's bed, grateful that the boy had a distraction from the near-constant pumping of chemicals into his bloodstream. It was strange to see the child so carefree, though Snape couldn't miss the fear that flashed through his eyes, or the dullness whenever he laughed. He was putting on a show, a mask to hide his true feelings from his friend. Why must he always think of others instead of himself? In the early days of Potter's first year at Hogwarts, Snape had been surprised at how easy it was to despise a child that he barely even knew. But now, the thought of causing the boy distress pained him just as much as it would the teenager currently munching on chocolate frogs, Snape really wasn't looking forward to when the nausea returned, he had a feeling they wouldn't taste as good on the way back up, and he would have to deal with it when the time arose. When they said goodbye to the redheaded pair, he almost felt sorry to see them go. It had given him a few hours of relative peace to think things over, now he would have to go back to holding a basin while the child heaved up the rest of his lunch. Why in god's name did he get mixed up in it all?

Two more days. Just two more days, just fourty-eight hours, and he'd be released from the concrete prison and allowed to return back to the manor before the next phase of chemo started. Of course the doctor had protested, rather loudly, that he would be too sick to return home, but Snape had soon set him straight, Harry loved magic. All he had to do was wear a stupid mask until they reached the manor, where Snape's wards would keep out any unwanted germs. Oh yes, Harry really did love magic.

Rain lashed the window as Snape watched his young charge wrestle with the blanket, clearly in the midst of a nightmare, more than likely to do with those blasted relatives of his. It wasn't right to do that to a child, to leave him so broken and scared, to taint him. Though he hadn't said anything outright, Snape had an inkling that there was more to the boy's story than met the eye, but he wouldn't ask him, not while he was in such a state with the treatment, it wasn't fair. Nobody, not even the spawn of the dreaded James Potter, deserved what the child had gone through on a daily basis for nine years of his life. At least Hogwarts had been his sanctuary for the past three years, even if it was torn away by the horrendous summer months. If anything the taunting the boy had suffered from Malfoy and his gang, and rather shamefully Snape himself, had been the best part of the poor boy's life, and that made Snape feel even worse. How could he have made Potter's life so much worse? The teen had already been through so much when he had arrived, and Snape had just added to it without a second thought, how could he have been so cruel? Wiping away a stray tear, Snape held his head in his hands, wishing he could take back the past and start fresh with the child. He should've saved him long before now, long before the damage had really set in. How could he have been so foolish to not see what had been happening? How had they all been so blind the boy's obvious pain? He would definitely give him the childhood he rightly deserved, he had to, it was the least he could do.

Nobody, not even Snape, could have predicted the outburst that shook the hospital ward when Minerva caught sight of her most precious Lion, lying semi-conscious in the hospital bed, his hair in patches over his head where the treatment had attacked his living cells. Even Harry had startled at the livid voice aimed at Snape, as if it was somehow his fault the boy was so sick. He could've tried to explain it, but in all honesty Snape felt as though he deserved the anger, as he had when he was a boy himself. He didn't even flinch as she aimed a punch to his nose, successfully sending blood flying in all directions. This way he would be able to feel a fraction of what Harry had suffered through, this way he could get a glimpse of what went on inside that troubled mind. This way he could feel.

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A/N: So how is it? I'm unsure whether to delve into Snape's background a little more or just leave it a sort of mystery. But anyway the next chapter will be up tomorrow.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter

See you soon, nicholosaur


	11. Chapter 11: Welcome Home

Disclaimer: We've been over this many times before, nothing has changed (unfortunately) I still do not own Harry Potter!

A/N: Sorry for the delay, it was supposed to be up yesterday but some things came up so I couldn't get on my laptop. This also may have spelling mistakes in it because the spellchecker on the document editor has disappeared so I'm going off my own knowledge right now!

Thank you to tazzledmuch and Ribbonsandroses42 for your awesome reviews, I'm glad you're enjoying the story :)

* * *

Be still and know that I am with you

Be still and know that I am here

Be still and know that I am wiht you

Be still

Be still and know

When darkness comes upon you

And colours you with fear and shame

Be still and know that I am with you

And I will say your name

If terror falls upon your bed

And sleep no longer comes

Remember all the words I said

Be still

Be still and know

The Fray - Be Still

* * *

They were home. Home. Harry liked the sound of that, it sounded permanent. Though he wasn't sure Snape would actually appreciate him staying there indefinitely, it was a good place to crash for this summer at least. Maybe when he was better he'd be able to find a place of his own for the holidays, but until then he'd more than happily stay with his potions master, there was a comforting feel to the manor, it felt almost safe. Harry hadn't felt safe in the longest time, but it was as if the house itself was reaching inside his mind and showing him that it was okay to feel, that it was okay to be secure.

Even if he had to live in the basement it would be a next step up from the Dursley's, he really wasn't expecting his own room. When they had first arrived last week he'd just assumed Snape had put him in the suite for pure convenience, after all it was much too late to sort out sleeping arrangements. So imagine his surprise when he was led, not to a grungy old cellar, but to a room as big as the entire upstairs of the Dursley's own house. It was quite honestly breathtaking, there were no other words to describe it. Each indivual wall had a different colour, one for every Hogwarts House, and each had a moving animal upon it which waved as Harry entered. The window had been charmed to show whatever Harry wanted, whether it be a type of weather or scenery, he hadn't even known it was possible to do such a thing. Was this what Snape had disappeared to do while he was in hospital? Did the man really care about him so much? Dropping down on the kingsize bed, relishing in the softness of the mattress, he finally let himself smile. Maybe he did matter. Maybe, just maybe, he'd be okay.

Snape was once again pulled from his sleep prematurely by the boy's highpitched howls of pain, almost as if he was being attacked right then and there. If it was anybody else Snape would have just cast a silencing charm and let sleep once again consume him, it was after all only three AM. But this was Potter, the child of his beloved Lily, the broken soul he'd had forced upon him, and he just couldn't bring himself to leave the teen to his nightmares. How on earth he managed at school was something Snape still hadn't figured out, surely someone would have noticed? Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he padded off to the only other occupied room in his entire manor.

The boy was, as always, twisted in his blankets, almost strangling himself as he writhed in pain at something Snape couldn't see. He could always enter the child's mind, but that invasion of privacy, though he wouldn't have thought twice about it just a few weeks prior, now made him uneasy, the boy would tell him when he was ready to do so. Until then the potions master would do what he had been doing the week he'd had Potter in his care, stroking the boy's hair, whispering calming words to him in an attempt to soothe the trembling teenager who looked smaller than ever on the extra-large bed. The boy wouldn't remember it in the morning, and Snape wouldn't mention it until the time arose, after all the boy was fragile at the best of times.

Sighing softly as the thrashing stopped, he quietly crept from the room, sending a whispered goodnight to his charge. He was so engrosed in his thoughts, he failed to notice the quizzical green eyes watching him leave, and though he didn't know it yet, he had just formed an inextricable bond with a child he'd spent so much energy on hating, with a child he never thought he'd be able to love.

Snape cared? He actually cared? Harry was sure he was still dreaming, the potions master hadn't exactly showed him kindness in the past three years, why would he start now? It made no sense, and the more Harry dweld on it, the more confused he became, nobody had ever cared about him before. Not since his parents had died anyway. Shrugging to himself, he peered over at the alarm clock, groaning as he saw it was still only four in the morning. He was almost certain that Snape wouldn't appreciate being woken up so early in the morning, so he'd just have to amuse himself for a couple of hours before he made breakfast. Despite the chemo, he was still too wired to sleep for even a few more minutes, let alone hours, he guessed all the years at the Dursley's had ingrained into his system that sleeping in was one of the worst offences he could commit, and even now his body obeyed the stupid rule. Flinging open his trunk, he found his parents old letters, rereading the first ever one over and over again.

_Our dearest Harry,_

_We can't believe it's your second birthday already! You must be getting such big boy now! If you're reading this it means we've had to leave you already, and it pains us to think of all the lost years we'll miss! Don't worry though my prince, we're sure Sirius is taking extra special care of you! Of course there's always the small chance that something happened to him in the war, and if that's the case you will have been entrusted into the care of mummy's long-time friend, though he definitely wasn't daddy's first choice (Sorry Sev!) Wherever you are we just hope you're safe and cared for, and as far away from that blasted Petunia and her family as possible. Happy Birthday Prince Harry, no tears on your special day! We love you with all our hearts! _

_Love Mummy and Daddy_

Harry stroked the last words, blinking back tears. They had written one for every year of his birthday up until he turned twenty-one, and though it wasn't much, it was always his most treasured birthday gift. Each one had a small present inside, and they had, of course, made up Christmas one's as well, just to make sure he never forgot them. It was mad to think he ever could, even when he was little he would make up stories in his head of what they looked like, how they acted. That way at least he could feel loved in his head, even if he wasn't in real life. Carefully folding the parchment back into its envelope, he buried it back at the bottom of his things, not entirely sure he wanted anybody else to read them just yet, they were one of the only things he had from his parents. Grateful he had killed at least another thirty minutes, Harry slipped downstairs, surely Snape wouldn't get too angry if he had breakfast waiting for him?

The smell of bacon wafted through his half-open door, rousing Snape from his much needed sleep. Grumbling about incompetent house elves getting him up so early in the morning, he pulled his robe from the end of his bed, all set to punish whoever had gotten him out of bed at five o-clock. It wasn't like the little devils to start breakfast so early, and Snape wasn't in the mood to praise them for their promptness, not after the rough night he'd had. Pushing open the kitchen door, he stopped dead in his tracks. "Potter? What are you doing up at this time?!"

The boy froze, the smile dropping from his lips. "I was... well I was just." He stopped, knowing it was better to just quit while he was still ahead. Eyes cast to the floor, he turned back to the pans, serving up his new guardian's breakfast, and storing the leftovers on a seperate plate before trying to make his exit. A hand caught his wrist, and he waited with bated breath for the blow that would most likely follow. He was used to punishment, it was normal in his life, why would it be any different here?

"Calm yourself boy, I'm not going to harm you! Now sit and eat, I assume you do not wish to return to bed now that I am up?" Taking his silence for conformation, Snape settled himself into one of the chairs, motioning for Harry to take the other one. "Do not make me forcefeed you, I assure you it will be done if you do not pick up that fork and start eating immediately." The child merely stared at him with wide eyes, making no move to start on his breakfast. Pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, Snape took a few calming breaths. It was going to be a long summer.

* * *

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying this as much as I am writing it! Let me know what you think, and what needs improving :) Any ideas are encouraged, and anything you'd like to see in here are welcomed!

See you next post, nicholosaur :)


	12. Chapter 12: The Past That Consumes Us

Disclaimer: Nope Harry Potter is still not mine!

A/N: It's offically Christmas Eve here in Britain so here's another chapter to celebrate ;)

Thank you tazzledmuch for being such a loyal reviewer! You truly are an amazing person :)

* * *

You gave him all the best of you

But I'm afraid your best

Wasn't good enough

And no he never wanted you

At least not the way you wanted yourself to be loved

And you feel like you were a mistake

He's not worth all the tears that won't go away

I wish you could see that

Still you try to impress him

But he never will listen

Boyce Avenue - Broken Angel

* * *

Four year old Severus Snape stared down at his meal with an intense dislike, pushing the plate away from him. He didn't like brussel sprouts, and his father always did the mashed potatoes wrong, not to mention the meat was overcooked and burnt in places. His mother glowered at him, a forkful of lumpy mash in her hand. He didn't move to copy her as he normally did, he wasn't going to fall for her tricks anymore. He was a big boy now, and big boy's definitely didn't eat sprouts. His father cleared his throat, pushing the plate back to its original spot, not even bothering to use words, the message was clear enough anyway. Snape made no attempt to move, arms folded across his chest in defiance, he couldn't give up now. Flinging back his chair, his father pulled the boy's hair back, ignoring the cries of pain that escaped his son's clamped lips. Grabbing the fork, he loaded the meal onto the metal, bringing it forcefully up to Snape's mouth. The metal scraped across his lips, and when his nose was held, he had no choice but to open his mouth to breathe. The fork was rammed in, stabbing at his tongue as he choked on the hot mixture. His mother shrugged at the display as he turned to her for help, tucking into her own meal as if it was the best thing in the world. Taking him roughly by the arm, his father threw him into his bedroom, shaking his head at the childish display. At least he'd never refuse a meal again.

"Professor? Are you okay?" Harry's voice was timid, and he immediately cursed himself for showing weakness. "Snape?!" He shouldn't raise his voice, not inside, he knew that, but the potions master had gone into some sort of trance, his eyes glazed over, his hand falling limply into his baked beans. If the whole senario wasn't so confusing, Harry would have laughed at the orange stained hand. But it was almost as if the professor had disappeared, leaving behind his body, and the thought of that made him shudder. Surely there was nothing seriously wrong? He could always floo Madame Pomfrey, or perhaps Dumbledore? It wasn't like any of them had left the castle since he had been found, maybe they thought he was going to run again? Snape would have a fit if he called them anyway, stating he was absolutely fine, though he really didn't look fine now. Shaking the older man's shoulders, he bit his lip worridly. He didn't want to lose his professor, not now.

He didn't want to be there, didn't want to remember what had happened. Snapping himself from the memory, Snape came face to face with the terrified thirteen year old he'd been forced to take on for the summer. Why was he looking so scared? Lifting his hand, Snape looked on in disgust at the orange mess that covered his fingers, what on earth had happened? "What are you gawping at boy?! Stop staring and eat before I make you!" He had no actual intention of forcefeeding the child, but Potter didn't need to know that. The boy still failed to move, and Snape had to calm himself before he harmed someone. "What is the matter? Surely even you can do a simple task like eat a cooked breakfast?" It came out harsher than he meant it too, and he instantly regretted the cold way he had been treating his young charge when Potter flinched back at his words. Closing his eyes against the headache that was most definitely forming, he let the fork clatter to the plate. He really didn't understand children at all.

Why did Snape look so angry? Harry wasn't allowed to eat at the table, didn't everyone know that? His relatives certainly did, so why did Snape find it so difficult to understand. The table was for people, not freaks like Harry. He was surprised they'd even let him use one at Hogwarts, though he assumed it was because there wasn't really room on the floor, and he didn't prepare the meals anyway. Now he was at the manor though, surely Snape expected him to follow the same rules the Dursley's had in place. He hadn't said otherwise, and though he'd given Harry an entire bedroom to himself, Harry didn't think it changed anything. So why was the man so insistent on getting him to eat the food? Was it so he could punish him for breaking the rules? It sounded about right, and Harry couldn't think of any other reason for it. Chewing his lip in confusion, he turned to his guardian, ready to recieve a blow to the head. "I'm sorry Sir, but I don't understand."

Snape blinked at the boy, his eyebrows raised. Was it a joke? How could the teenager not understand a simple instruction like 'eat your food'? Was it that hard to comprehend? "I want you to take that plate of food, pick up that fork over there, and eat all of it! I don't know what happened at your old house, but here you are expected to eat at least three meals a day, understood?" Earning a nod, he turned his attention back to his own breakfast, grateful to see the child had at last began to eat. If the rest of mealtimes were so challenging, Snape really didn't know what he was going to do.

A piercing scream filled the air, causing Snape to drop the vial he was holding. What could have happened to the boy in the space of five minutes? All he'd asked him to do was fetch a bottle from the basement, something even a three year old could do. "Potter? Potter what happened?" He found the child curled up on the stairs, his breathing hitched. "Potter what is it? What's wrong? Was it the dark?" The teen flung himself at the professor, causing Snape to freeze in shock. He hadn't had in the longest time, not since Draco had been little, and he couldn't even remember a time before that. Lifting the too light child from the darkened room, he gently deposited him on the couch, all set to make him spill his secrets.

Harry trembled from the loss of contact, trying his hardest to stop himself from losing it in front of his professor. He hadn't meant to get so worked up, but the door had closed behind him, and it was dark, so very dark. He hated the darkness, you couldn't see what was lurking in the shadows. "I'm not afraid of the dark Sir." He paused, lifting his head from the cushions. "It's what's in it that scares me."

Six year old Severus Snape was alone. His eyes scanned the darkened room with fear, his voice catching in his throat as he tried to cry out for help. Help never came anyway, and he'd be in there until morning, until he'd learnt his lesson. It wasn't as if he had been bad, not to his standards anyway, he'd merely insisted his parents leave his bedroom light on as it was much too dark without it, and they, of course, had seen it as a sign of weakness. So there he was, locked away with no escape. It would work though, it always worked, and he'd never be afraid of the dark again. But at that moment it was the most terrifying thing in the world, and he just couldn't stand it. Tears streamed down his face despite his best efforts to stop them, maybe his father was right? Maybe he was weak? It wasn't fair, he hadn't meant to be afraid, the shadows just always seemed to jump out of him, he hated when they did that. Pressing himself up into the corner, he sent up a silent prayer, hoping someone, anyone would rescue him. But nobody would, nobody ever did. Eventually he would stop telling them of his fears, he would learn that there would be no sympathy in that house. But until then he was stuck. Stuck with a family that didn't care. With a family that didn't love. A family that didn't feel.

* * *

A/N: I had so much fun delving into Snape's backstory a little. How was the chapter? Share your thoughts and any suggestions! :) I'm having christmas dinner later today because we have a family tradition of eating it on Christmas eve instead of Christmas day, and my dad's cooking it so I'll be in my room hiding from his shouting ;) (even though I'm not even having a proper Christmas meal, I'm on Quorn Southern-style burgers because meat sucks) ;) But that means I should get another chapter done for you lovely readers :)

Seeya soon, nicholosaur


	13. Chapter 13: The Storm Raging On

Disclaimer: I really don't know why I keep putting these up as I clearly do not, nor will I ever, own Harry Potter.

A/N: Here it is folks, the newest installment of the story! I hope you enjoy :)

* * *

When will you realise?

Baby you're worth it

You don't have to do anything to earn it

Baby you're perfect

You deserve it

When will you see what I see and realise you're worth it?

You are not a burden

Not a waste

You're not a copy

Can't be replaced

You're not your pain

Not your past

Your scars will never hold you back

There's so much that you've been through that nobody knows

So many things you never show

Cimorelli - You're worth it

* * *

The dark. Harry Potter, the famous Boy-Who-Lived, was afraid of the dark? Well near enough anyway. What could possibly be lurking in the darkness that scared him so much? It didn't make any sense, and Snape was once again at a loss of how to comfort the distraught child. It was almost like someone was attempting to push all of his limits to see if he would buckle under the stress of it all, but Snape would not break, not now he had so much to lose. If he lost it where would the child go? The Weasley's had more than enough children as it was, and Snape would rather die than send his charge back to the Dursley scum. Stroking the poor boy's hair, Snape knelt down in front of the couch, muttering soothing words he had once seen Lily say all those years ago. It worked, though not instantly, but eventually the sobbing quietened down to the occasional hiccup. "Hush now, it's over, there's no monsters in my basement, not even me, just a bunch of old furniture and some ingredients." The child rolled over, staring up at the potions master as if he had just announced that he had three heads hidden under his cloak. Those haunting green eyes bore into his with an intensity he'd once seen in Lily's. What was it with that boy making him remember the past?

"You're not a monster Sir! Not like him!" Harry's shoulders slumped down, his hand snaking into Snape's. "Nothing like him! He came in the dark! Him and his friends!" His breathing once again raced, his eyes fixed on a blank spot of the wall. "Always the dark! You can't see much in the dark!" Grabbing hold of his own hair with his free hand, he pulled visciously. "Nobody see's in the dark! Nobody cares!" Fighting against Snape's firm hold on his arms, he let out a pained howl, his feet lashing out at his caregiver. "Nobody cares! Nobody helps!" His mind fought against the memories, pushing them back to the darkest corner of his mind. But they always returned, never left him alone for long. He was weak! He was unloved! He was impure! And nothing in the world could change that. Or so he thought.

Snape's heart grew heavy as he listened to the boy's exclamations. He would definitely be paying the Dursley's a visit very soon. As the young boy's breathing evened out, Snape wrenched his hand free, climbing quickly to his feet. He couldn't bear the thought of what the youngster had been through, and he needed to calm down in the safety of his lab, away from anything and everything. Walking briskly to the door, he turned his head slightly, surveying the scene in front of him. "I care Harry, I care."

Thunder boomed outside of the manor, waking Harry from his shallow sleep. His eyes darted to the rain covered windows as a fork of lightning illuminated the room, rooting him to the spot in fear. Where was Snape when he needed him? Would his new guardian even give him the comfort he so longingly craved? Covering his ears as another loud thunder clap sounded overhead, he muscled his way under the coffee table, trying his hardest to keep his emotions in check. Nobody had ever bothered to calm him in a storm before, and it was clear Snape would be no exception. At least he wasn't locked in the shed as he had been for the many storms he'd witnessed at the Dursley's, here he had practically free-rein of the entire house. Whimpering at the loud noises, his eyes zoned in on the small pile of hair laying at the foot of the couch. Had he done that? Banging his head against the table as another fork of lightning flickered, he had to choke back a sob. He didn't want to be in the overly large room with its giant windows, he wanted to be back in familiar surroundings, back in the confines of his cupboard. At least there he knew the rules, at least there he could find his way around without any problems. "Stop! STOP!" His voice echoed through the room, doing nothing to calm his nerves. He didn't want to be there. He wanted to go home.

It was the screams that interupted Snape's brewing, screams filled with terror and fear. What on earth had happened? Flicking his wand in the direction of the potion, he took off towards the sitting room, wand held in front of him incase someone had managed to break through the wards and gained entry. "Potter?! Potter who's there?! Barrelling into the room, he skidded to a stop near the couch, forcing out a breath as he saw the boy curled up underneath the table, both hands securely blocking his ears. Trying to calm his pounding heart, he stooped down to the child's level, laying himself parelel with the shaking teen. "It's okay Harry, it's just a storm, it'll pass!" Reaching out, he took the boy's hand in his, gripping so tight he was half-afraid he would hurt him. "You're safe my boy! I won't let anyone harm you! I promise you now that I will protect you as long as I live!" When had he become so attached to the child he would've reffered to as a brat not that long ago? And why was he drawn to getting the boy to trust in him? It didn't make even a bit of sense, and Snape found himself questioning his very morals. Why did he care so much about the damn boy? And how could he help make his life right?

It was at least another fourty-minutes before Harry braved the world outside of the table, and even then he stuck to Snape's side like glue. The storm continued to rage on, and every single sound made him want to jump back to safety, though he knew Snape would never allow it. What he couldn't understand was how sincere Snape had sounded when he layed with him. Didn't Snape hate his guts? Hadn't he been set against having Harry around since his first of Hogwarts? Wandering round the dimly lit potions lab, he thanked his lucky stars Snape had at least thought enough to place a lamp in the room, even if they couldn't have it very bright. The shelves were lined with all sorts of ingredients Harry had never even heard of, and he had the urge to take every single one down and examine them all one by one. Shifting restlessly in his seat, he let his head flop down onto his arms. He wanted to make a potion with Snape more than anything, to show him that he could do so much better without Malfoy and his gang around, but he didn't dare ask, what if Snape was just pretending to like him? Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he stiffened lightly, peering up from between his arms. Snape handed him a book, shooing him off to a spare couldron. Grinning at his guardian, he rushed off to begin the task, all thoughts of the storm forgotten. He'd changed his mind, he didn't want to go home anymore. He was home.

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A/N: So how was it? Hit review and let me know your thoughts, and anything that needs to be changed or added :) It would've been up earlier but my laptop decided to do an update that lasted from three AM this morning up until about five PM so I couldn't write it until it decided to stop being such a nusciance ;)

The next chapter will hopefully be up tomorrow, though it all depends on if my family hold me hostage in the front room for Christmas Day instead of letting me escape to my room ;)

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	14. Chapter 14: Pickles?

Disclaimer: I still own none of the Harry Potter universe!

A/N: Merry Christmas guys! I got a 4oz Cinema Popcorn Maker for Christmas, which makes delicious popcorn!

I hope you guys like this chapter :)

* * *

What've you got if you aint got love?

The kind you just wanna give away

It's okay to open up

Okay ahead and let the light shine through

I know it's hard on a rainy day

You wanna shut the world out and just be left alone

But don't run out on your faith

Carrie Underwood - So Small

* * *

It was strange, not having the usual angry voices directed his way. Harry had become way too used to the less than comforting words flung his way in fits of rage, and it felt almost nice to have silence instead of shouting. Yet he was still on edge, still waiting for Snape to snap, still waiting for the inevitable beating that would almost certainly come. It always did, no matter how good he was, or how many chores he performed. Everybody turned on him eventually, it was a solid fact, and he'd actually become used to the painful goodbyes he always went through. No tears would be shed, that would make it seem as if it hurt him, and even-though it did, he would never show weakness in front of anybody, that was just asking for a beating. Rubbing his eyes tiredly, he glanced over at the alarm clock, glad to see he had slept to a reasonable six o-clock. Stretching off his aching limbs, he looked down at his rumbled pyjamas, had he even gotten dressed yesterday? Shrugging to himself, he pulled out what he thought would be a presentable outfit, all set to take a well-needed shower. He hadn't had one since the hospital, and though he'd gone months without one at the Dursley's, he doubted Snape would want him stinking up the place. Relishing in the heat of the water, he let his mind wander to yesterday. Snape had seemed, friendly? Could it be Harry's mind playing tricks on him? Perhaps it was all a dream, and he'd wake up in his cupboard with Vernon screaming at him. That seemed logical, he just hoped it wasn't true.

Harry James Potter, the bane of Snape's existence. The boy couldn't make up his mind whether he wanted to be loved or hated by the potions master, and it made Snape's life a hell of a lot harder. Wincing at the bruises that had formed over night after Potter's freakout yesterday, Snape ran a hand through his hair, at least the boy hadn't had a nightmare last night. It was great to finally catch up on his much needed sleep, but at the same time he felt a little uneasy, surely the calm wouldn't last long. The boy was like a ticking time bomb, and he'd come so close to blowing yesterday. Snape really wasn't looking forward to when the time came, which it almost certainly would. Even the strongest of people couldn't keep everything bottled up endlessly, there's only so much one person can take before they explode. Even Dumbledore wouldn't be able to shoulder what the child had and remain his calm, composed self. It wasn't a matter of if, it was a matter of when. So far they had been treading on egg shells, and one wrong move, one sudden step, and they would shatter, taking both of them down with it. Shaking his head as he heard the boy's shower turn on, Snape rolled out of bed. At least it wasn't five AM like last time, he would stick the boy to his bed if that happened again. Severus Snape definitely needed his beauty sleep, and nobody came in-between that.

There was a dog. Why was there a dog? Surely the dreaded dungeon bat didn't own such a sweet little thing? The animal, Harry was unsure whether it be male or female, looked up at the bacon with pleading eyes, its tongue lolling to one-side as it drooled onto the floor. Making sure Snape wasn't about to walk into the room, Harry tossed down a treat, rubbing the dog's head as it devoured the meat. How on earth had he not noticed the animal before now? It wasn't exactly like you could just put a blanket over it. Harry was ninety-nine percent sure it was a German Shepherd, and it clearly loved the attention it was gaining from the newest member of the household. Snape really didn't seem like an animal sort of guy, and if he had any, Harry thought it would almost definitely be a snake. At least it wasn't a chihuahua. Flopping down next to his newfound friend, he nibbled on the edge of his own bacon, one arm slung around the pup. His new house just got better and better.

"I see you've met Pickles?" Snape smirked at the boy's bewildered look, reaching down to pat his long time friend on the head. "He's a type of magical breed that can live to be hundreds of years old, he came into my possession during my first year of Hogwarts, and your mother gave him the unfortunate name he is now stuck with, though I have tried to change it, the daft mutt won't answer to anything else." The dog huffed at being called a mutt, snuggling further into Potter. Why did every single creature like the child? Even Snape's own dog seemed more interested in the boy than his own master. Rolling his eyes at the way Potter fussed over the furbag, he turned his attention onto his own breakfast, keeping a watchful eye to make sure the child ate at least most of the food, though he clearly wasn't going to eat it all, not with the living hoover around. Grinning at the way his charge kept one securely wrapped around the dog's back, he let himself relax slightly. Maybe the boy would be alright after all. Maybe they'd get through it without a scratch.

He was running. Running to get away from the pain. From the hurt that consumed him. No matter how fast he went though, he always ended back where he had started, as if he was going in circles the entire time. Tugging on the door handle with all his might, he prayed it would open in time. He could hear the man's breathing, coming closer and closer as he struggled to get away. Why wasn't anyone helping him? Slamming both fists into the wood, he cried out, feeling a hand snaking over his mouth. Ramming his elbow backwards, he took off running again, not daring to look back. Pain erupted from his ribs as he was yanked back by an invisible hand, his eyes squeezed shut. He would not look at the man, would not give him the satisfaction of seeing him break. Cowering against the wall as he saw a shadow move across the only light source, he tensed his whole body, waiting for the sharp hit that always followed. A single tear broke free, falling silently down his cheek, dripping off his chin unnoticed. It would soon be over, and he'd back in the safety of his cupboard for another couple of hours. Taking in a deep breath, his body braced itself for the inevitable. Nobody ever came before, why should this time be different?

Harry sat bolt upright in bed, his eyes wide with undiluted fear. He could have sworn the dream was real, it had been so similar to past experiences. Shaking his head, he felt the cold nudge of Pickle's nose against his arm, the dog all set to jump up into bed with the troubled teen. Patting the space next to him, he allowed the animal to settle down, not even bothering to glance at the clock. Even he knew it would be way too early to get up, and though Snape had so far been more or less tolerant with the crack of dawn wake up calls, Harry really didn't want to push his luck. Snuggling down with his head resting comfortably on the back of his new companion, he let out a sigh of relief. Nobody had ever shown him compassion like the dog had, and though it wasn't really the same, he welcomed it none the less. After all, it wasn't like anybody else bothered to love him.

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A/N: So what do you guys think? I felt like Snape would secretly have a pet that he kept hidden from his colleagues and students. Hit review and let me know what you think :) Any ideas on how to make it better are welcomed! As are any requests :)

The next one will be up tomorrow.

See you next post, nicholosaur :)


	15. Chapter 15: A Brand New Hairstyle

Disclaimer: Nope, I still don't own Harry Potter!

A/N: Well this was finished earlier than I expected so consider it an Christmas Present :)

Thank you to tazzledmuch for being my loyal reviewer, you're awesome! :)

Thank you to Cerenbus. Snape. Malfoy (I had to put spaces because the document editor doesn't like your name) for your suggestions, I think these are more clearer because they have the character's name pretty close to the beginning, but I've added another space in between the points of view as well, and I shall do the same to the previous chapters when I've next got time :) I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far.

* * *

If the world stops turning

If the sun stops burning

When the cold wind starts to blow

I wanna let you know

Oh I'll never let you go

When you feel like breaking

When your heart keeps waiting

When the tears begin to fall

I wanna let you know

Oh I'll never let you go

Colbie Caillat - Never let you go

* * *

"Potter? Are you intent on staying in bed all day? Or can we get a move on with other more important things?" Snape raised his eyebrows as the boy jumped, quite literally, from the bed. Wincing for the child as his knees came into contact with the hard ground, Snape slowly shook his head, sharing a knowing glance with the animal on the bed. Even the dog was confused by the boy's actions. The child stopped suddenly, his eyes zoning in on the pillow his head had been resting on moments ago. "What on earth is the..." Noticing the small pile of hair, the potions master sighed, taking in the boy's new hair, well lack of hair really. Patches had fallen from his head, and what was left clung on in thin wisps. Watching as the child glared angrily at the offending pile, Snape banished it with a quick flick of his wand. They were definitely in for a long day.

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Harry stared uncertainly at his reflection, attempting to flatten his hair into a less noticable style. Failing to do so, he spotted a pair of clippers by the sink. Isn't that what he did when he was younger? Taking them in his hand, he took a deep breath, bringing them up to his head. Anything was better than his current look, and he was sure even Snape would approve of the choice. Anyway, he could always get a hat. Switching on the contraption, he pushed it through his hair, trying his hardest to ignore the deep buzzing in his ear. He was almost certain his aunt had done this last time, though not willingly, almost as if she thought she'd catch what he had if she touched him. Glancing up at the mirror again, he smirked at his reflection. One side of his hair had gone, leaving it near enough bald. The otherside just looked lonely, as if it was missing it's other half. Giggling at the thought of them having a conversation, he started on the otherside, nearly dropped the clippers as the door crashed open revealing Snape, looking absolutely livid.

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The boy was shaving his hair. He even looked happy about it, which just seemed plain wrong to Snape. What was the child thinking? "Mr Potter, do tell why you are getting rid of your hair?" He was trying to remain calm, but in all honesty he was shocked by the child's uncaring act. Never in a million years would Snape shave off his hair, whether it was falling out or not. The boy was just full of surprises, and Snape wasn't sure he liked the air of mystery surrounding his every move. Every time Snape thought he had an inkling into the boy's behaviour, it changed drastically. He could be cowering under the table one minute, and playing fetch with Pickles the next, it was confusing to say the least. At least they hadn't had many tears, that was one thing Snape could never deal with, even when he was a child himself. Grabbing the clippers from the child, he set them down on the side. Why did everything have to be so complicated?

.

The man didn't seem happy at all, and Harry braced himself for the punishment that would follow. "I didn't want to get hair everywhere, and the clippers were right there." He hung his head, blinking back the traitor tears. "I'm sorry Sir! I won't touch anything again." Harry hadn't meant to disobey the rules, and he certainly would't touch anything of his guardian's again, not now that he knew how the house worked. Taking a small step back, he wonderded what was taking Snape so long to dish out the beating he rightly deserved. Maybe he just liked torturing him beforehand, Vernon did that often. He was stupid really, thinking it would be different at this house. But he only had himself to blame for thinking it was safe to let his guard down, now he would have to suffer the concequences that he had brought upon himself. At least he'd figured it out before he got too comfortable.

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Snape looked down at the cowering boy with shock, did he really believe the man would hurt him? Snape knew he was strict, but he would never lay his hands on a child, that was beneath even him. "Calm yourself child, I do not wish to harm you, I was merely confused as to why you were shaving off your hair." Sighing, Snape took hold of the clippers, tilting the boy's head to one side. "I'll help you, it'll be quicker that way."

.

He couldn't believe it. Snape was being nice. He hadn't been hit, or shouted at. In fact, the man was being extremely gentle, and it unnerved young Harry. Snape had seemed mad, and he was sure he'd broken the rules, yet he hadn't recieved so much as a warning. It was too confusing with his potions master, everything was different. He couldn't rely on the facts he'd lived by his entire life, it was as if his old life didn't exist in the confines of the manor, and most of the Dursley's rules had been broken by Snape's insistence. What was wrong in Privet Drive, seemed to be right with Snape, it was as if he'd entered a parelel universe where everything was the wrong way round. Risking a glance at his guardian, he found the man smiling slightly. Since when did Snape Smile? Dropping his eyes back down to his hands, Harry shook the thoughts away. It wouldn't help to dwell on questions that would probably never be answered, he'd just have to relish in the freedom while it lasted.

.

In his entire lifetime, never had Snape had to shave someone's head. If Lily was there now she'd have gone balistic, and he didn't care to think of how James would have reacted. In all honesty he was slightly apprehensive about taking the boy out with his three closest colleagues, but the child definitely needed to run off some steam while his immune system could still tollerate the outside world. It would do neither of them any good to stay cooped up for days on end, and Snape was actually looking forward to showing the boy what he had missed growing up. It would also be the perfect time to get rid of the rags Potter called clothing and find some more suitable attire, another piece of his past to shed. By the end of the Summer, Snape hoped to get to the bottom of Harry's unusual behaviour ticks, which seemed to be falling together piece by piece. He was almost sure of the origin of Potter's fear of the darkness, and it didn't sit with him right at all. But he would be paying a visit to Privet Drive soon enough, and when he did there would be no mercy for the man that had broken the poor boy. Nobody hurt his child and got away with it.

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A/N: You like? It's actually so much fun developing both characters :) Let me know what you think, and any thing that needs improving or adding :)

I shall see you tomorrow!

nicholosaur


	16. Chapter 16: The Crime Of Fashion

Disclaimer: Nope, Harry Potter is still not mine!

A/N: This is up later than I expected as I got side tracked with a new xbox 360 game, so I do apologize. Hopefully you'll like this chapter!

tazzledmuch you are once again an awesome human being, I hope you enjoy! :)

CerenbusSnapeMalfoy, the reason Minerva hit Snape in chapter 10 is because she blamed him for the way Harry looked due to the treatment. It didn't occur to her that it wasn't his fault, she just hated Snape for putting Harry through it. Thank you for reviewing! :)

* * *

You're not alone

Together we stand

I'll be by your side

You know I'll take your hand

When it gets cold

And it feels like the end

There's no place to go

You know I won't give

No I won't give in

Keep holding on

'Cause you know we'll make it through

We'll make it through

Just stay strong

'Cause you know I'm here for you

I'm here for you

Avril Lavigne - Keep Holding On

* * *

The sight of the two most senior professors of Hogwarts, and of course Remus Lupin, walking through London would seem a little strange to most folk, especially as the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had about as much fashion sense as a teaspoon. Normally they wouldn't venture so far from the school, but today was special, today was all about Harry. Dumbledore's heart was weighed down with guilt as he thought of the young thirteen year old, the guilt justified by the fact that it was he who had sent the boy to his relatives at the age of one. Nothing had affected him quite so much as this, and he knew it was entirely his fault. The Potter's wouldn't have wanted it, in fact they had specifically stated in the will that their son was to go no where near the Dursley's. If it wasn't for the blood wards, Dumbledore would have cohered with their wishes. But instead he had foolishly assumed the boy would be safest under the roof of his flesh and blood, it never even occurred to Dumbledore that while the wards would protect the child from any outsiders that wished to harm him, it would not keep him safe from the horrors that took place within the house. Why should he have suspected anything? He had, naively perhaps, assumed that the boy would be safest with his relatives, after all there was nothing to doubt that until now. Sighing dejectedly, he turned his attention to the throng of incoming visitors. Both Harry and Severus would be arriving by taxi, and he hoped they arrived soon, otherwise he'd be forced to stick his colleague to the bench, she just wouldn't keep still. He knew she was anxious to see her Lion, especially after the event at the hospital that Dumbledore had gotten wind of. Shaking his head, he finally spotted the two he wanted to see, jumping eagerly to his feet. He planned to make it up to his favorite student, and he would start today. He only hoped the child would forgive him.

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The taxi driver kept glancing back at the child on the backseat, and Harry got the feeling he wasn't exactly wanted in the car. Maybe the man thought he would hurl on the upholstery? Not that he was going to, he hadn't eaten nearly enough to do that. Turning his gaze to the window, he watched as passersby darted along the narrow path, most of them on the tailend of their lunch break. He had always been fascinated by others, ever since he was old enough to leave the house on his own. Often, when he had been sent on an errand, he would make up stories in his head, give them all imaginary lives. It would always pass the time, and make the journey a little brighter. He was a little to old for that now, and his mind had too many swirling thoughts for him to even begin at imagining what the man with the spilt coffee worked as. Instead he kept his eyes peeled for any threats, anyone from his past that could jump out, at least two of his uncle's friends lived in London. Snape was keeping him in the dark about their destination, apparently it was supposed to be a surprise. Harry hated surprises. They were rarely ever good, and he really couldn't deal with any more disruption in his less than perfect world. Resting his head against the cool glass, he let his eyes close. At least he still had Snape, for now. No doubt the man would soon get sick of him, and he'd be dumped back on the Dursley's doorstep. But until then he'd enjoy the potions master's company, as much as he could anyway, and besides, if Snape got sick of him, he'd still have Pickles. At least the dog wouldn't judge, or hurt him like so many others had. At least the dog was safe.

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When Snape first laid eyes on the headmaster's apparel, he let out a groan of displeasure, earning a snicker from his young charge. The man was dressed in a pair of large purple and orange polkadot trousers, and a pink flowery jumper. To put it bluntly, he was a walking fashion disaster. How Minerva or Lupin had allowed him to leave the castle was a mystery to both Snape and Harry, surely someone had said something? At least Minerva looked calm, that was a good sign, he really wasn't in the mood to be a punching bag today. The wolf looked anxious, and Snape couldn't exactly blame him, it had been a while since the man had seen his bestfriend's son. Laying a gentle hand on the child's shoulder, he guided him over to the waiting trio, really not wanting to be asociated with Dumbledore at that moment in time. Nodding at the two better dressed indivuals, he vowed to take the headmaster to a clothes shop immediately. He would not be walking around with the man dressed like he'd just come from a jumble sale, and he was sure the others had exactly the same thoughts.

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Minerva stared critically at the to-thin boy, he eyes lingering on the cotton hat that covered his head. Why would he be wearing a hat in July? Surely Snape hadn't done something to the child's hair? Though she knew she'd overreacted in the hospital, if the man had done what she thought he had, she wouldn't be accountable for her actions. Hoping she was wrong, she quickly seized the hat from his head, staring in shock at the nearly smooth scalp underneath. What had Snape done? Turning her cold gaze to the boy's current guardian, she was all set to hex him into oblivion. "You! What've you done! I knew it was a bad idea to send him with you!" Harry had been entrusted into his care, and he'd done this! She would not stand for it. The boy deserved better than that.

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"Stop! It was my idea! I started it! Don't take away my professor!" Harry willed the tears that welled up in his eyes to disappear, he would not cry in front of them. He had to be strong, but every fiber of his being hurt at the thought of being taken away from _his _professor. It wasn't fair! And he definitely wouldn't go without a fight. Snape was his. His! Nobody was allowed to take it all away now, he wouldn't allow it. That wasn't their choice to make. They hadn't seen what Harry had, they hadn't felt the pain, or the anger. But they had given him hope. Hope that maybe one day he could be loved, and they couldn't just snatch that back. Clinging fearfully to the man's arm, he tried to stop the shaking of his entire body. He wouldn't let them take him. He couldn't. Not now.

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Snape didn't know what to do. Of course Minerva was mad, she had every right to be. But to threaten to take Harry away? The child hung to his arm so tightly, Snape was sure his circulation had been cut off, but he didn't mind, not now. The boy trusted him. Enough to get worked up at the thought of being removed anyway, and Snape could feel his heart glow at the thought. Never did he think he'd care so much for the son of James Potter, yet the thought of losing him was too much to bear. Patting the child awkwardly on the head, he pried Harry's fingers away from his arm, nudging him forward. The witch had meant well, he knew that, and he didn't want the day to be ruined before it had even begun. There'd be time for arguments later, but right now they had a boy to spoil.

A/N: So what do you think? Good? Bad? Hit review and share your thoughts :) I know it's short, but I'm hoping the next one will be longer.

I have nothing on today as my parents will be returning home later so I'm not going out anywhere. Therefore I will definitely be posting the next chapter!

Seeya later, nicholosaur :)


	17. Chapter 17: Let The Shopping Begin

Disclaimer: The magical world of Harry Potter is most definitely not mine!

Another short one (sorry!) But I don't like overloading the chapters with too much.

Thank you to CerenbusSnapeMalfoy for reviewing :) I think Minerva would act slightly out of character if her favorite Lion had his hair shaved without anyone knowing ;) after all she's still not entirely sure Snape is the best person to look after Harry.

On with the story!

* * *

You could've bowed out gracefully

But you didn't

You knew enough to know to leave well enough alone

But you wouldn't

I drive myself crazy

Tryin' to stay out of my own way

The messes that I make

But my secrets are so safe

The only one who gets me

Yeah you get me

It's amazing to me

How everyday

Everyday

Every day you save my life

Rascal Flatts - Everyday

* * *

Never before had Harry seen so many clothes in one place, and he definitely never expected to be allowed to pick out whatever he wanted. The only time he'd ever gotten knew clothes was when his aunt had bought Dudley some from the sale rack that turned out to be too small, and as there was a no returns policy, Harry got them instead, though they weren't at all pleased about it. He'd learnt not to argue when it came to clothes in the Dursley household after he had been forced to walk around with nothing on when he was four after he pointed out the unfairness of getting Dudley's hand-me-downs, he wouldn't do that again. Every outfit Snape held up was magnificent to Harry, even if Minerva sent disapproving looks to the items that was more suited to an eight year old rather than a thirteen year old.

Harry was in his element. He loved feeling the fabrics, and picking out the colours. It was as if he'd stepped right inside a dream, and it was wonderfully brilliant to be able to relax and take his mind off things for a while. Yet he couldn't stop himself from glancing anxiously at Minerva, what if she suddenly decided to take him away? Making sure his professor stayed within arms length of him, he followed the group to the tills. Though he was a little uncomfortable with Snape paying for his clothing, Harry knew better than to say anything. He had money. They could just go to gringotts and change some Galleons for Pounds and he'd be able to buy everything himself, but Snape actually seemed happy to be spending money on him. Harry guessed he didn't have many people to buy things for, especially as he didn't even blink at the skyhigh total it came too at the till. Shaking his head, he whispered a thank you to his guardian, earning a smile in return. He didn't know what had happened to his professor to make him so nice, but Harry wouldn't trade him for the world. He liked being cared for. He liked being loved.

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What was wrong with the boy? Nobody could miss the longing looks he sent to the toys in the shop, so why hadn't he asked for one? Silently cursing those good for nothing Dursley's as Harry slowly shook his head and turned to look at something else, Snape picked up the console Harry had been so fixated on, turning it over in his hands. What was a Gameboy anyway? It seemed to be some sort of muggle device, but the sales assistant eagerly explained everything, and mentioned it was common among the teenagers, having obviously spotted Harry. Snape shrugged, placing it into the trolley along with all of the games. Clearly the child had never had the oppurtunity to enter a toyshop, let alone be bought anything, and Snape just couldn't ignore the sad looks anymore. "Pick out anything you'd like, we need to make your room a little more homely." Ignoring the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes, he focused on the clearly excited boy. Hadn't anyone ever bought the child a single present before? Vowing to have a word with him when they returned home, he let the boy have his fun. They could break him out of his bad habits later, now they had to focus on just letting him be a child.

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Minerva smiled at the childlike way Harry darted round, Snape on his heels, carefully picking out items with Snape's approval. She felt bad for making him so distressed earlier in the morning, she always tended to jump to conclusions without knowing all of the facts. At least Harry didn't seem to hold grudges, not against Snape anyway. It was strange to see her colleague so care free, it was as if Harry had awakened something within him that had been buried deep for along as she had known him, the boy seemed to bring the best out in everybody. Exchanging an amused glance with her former student, she waited by the tills as Snape payed for the latest items. So engrossed in the conversation happening between Lupin and Dumbledore, they all failed to notice the black haired boy slip from the shop.

.

He was gone. Snape quickly scanned the isles, hoping the boy had simply wandered back down to a display. There was no sign of him anywhere, and Snape was becoming increasingly frantic, where could he be? Surely nobody would take him? The more he thought about it, the more panicked he became. Never had Snape had to deal with a missing child, not since Harry had ran off before the holidays. He hadn't really cared for the boy an awful lot then anyway, but now? Now his chest constricted painfully at the thought of the boy being taken, why had he taken his eyes off him? Trying to calm his racing heart, he turned to the other three in the group, earning shakes of the head. Where was the damn boy? Taking a deep breath, he pushed the trolley towards the exit, a feeling of dread pooling in his stomach. If anybody had taken the child, he really didn't know what he'd do. If he found the boy, no when they found him, Snape was definitely going to attatch some reins to the boy so he didn't wander off again. His heart just couldn't take all this startling. Once again scanning the shopping centre, his eyes zoned in on the green hat he'd found this morning. Without thinking he strode over the teenager, crushing him to his chest as he blinked back tears that threatened his composure. "Where did you go?! I thought someone had taken you!" Though he tried to sound harsh, his voice came out as more of strangled sob. He didn't care that people were watching, or that the boy in his arms clearly wasn't used to this kind of treatment. His only thoughts were of relief. Relief that Harry was safe. Relief that he had his boy back.

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Harry struggled against the man, fear filling his system until he realized the potions master meant no harm. "The bathroom?" His voice sounded uncertain, as if he wasn't exactly sure, and more than anything he was confused. Why was Snape so worked up? It wasn't like he'd been gone for long, in fact he was sure it was less than ten minutes, yet his professor was close to tears. Who would want take him anyway? Nobody cared about him. At least that's what he thought until Snape had swept him up in a bear hug. Did that mean he did matter? Melting into the embrace, he found a small smile working its way onto his lips. Nobody had ever hugged him like that before, not even Mrs Weasley. It felt nice, to not have anybody hitting him, or screaming at him. It was as if nobody else existed, not even the three other adults standing around them. Just Harry and Snape, together in a single hug that nobody could break up. Harry didn't mind that they were in the middle of a shopping centre with people openely staring at them, or that Dumbledore had that daft smile on his face. All that mattered was his professor. All that mattered was he was loved.

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A/N: Another chapter finished! I hope you guys enjoyed! Send a review of your thoughts :)

I aim to please so if anything doesn't seem right just let me know, or if anything needs to be added :)

Thanks for viewing!

Seeya next post, nicholosaur :)


	18. Chapter 18: Shattered Glass

Disclaimer: I'm not even gonna pretend I own the Wizarding Universe!

A/N: Another chapter for you guys, I hope you enjoy :) Sorry it's so short!

Thank you to the two guests that reviewed!

Anyways, on with the chapter!

But if you ever fall down straight to the bottom

And you can't get back where you started

With no strength to stand

I'm gonna reach for your hand

When the going gets rough

Right when it's hurting

I will be there to help any burden

Any place

Any time

You gotta know for you I'll fight

Daughtry - I'll Fight

* * *

It wasn't that the falling glasses had startled Harry, not really. It was the way they shattered on impact, sending shards flying across the room. It was at that point he knew he was in trouble, and it was all his stupid fault. What was he thinking trying to carry all five glasses at the same time? Jumping back in shock, he opened his mouth in a silent scream, Snape would definitely get rid of him now. Blood pounded in his ears, if nothing else he'd be locked in the basement for sure. Without really thinking, he stooped down in an attempt to gather the pieces before someone noticed. It didn't matter to him that it tore painfully at his flesh, or that this one small act could possibly kill him if he sliced his hands in enough places. No, the only thing that mattered was righting his mistake before Snape came to check on him. At least that would give him time to make up a plan. At least that would allow him time to run.

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The moment Snape entered the kitchen, he almost had a heart attack right where he stood. The boy had someone managed to not only smash the glasses, something that could easily be fixed, but he had attempted to pick all the pieces up by hand, earning many deep cuts along his palms. Cursing the child's stupidity, he forcibly pulled him back, fixing the glasses with a flick of his wand. The boy bowed his head, out of fear or shame Snape didn't know. Sighing tiredly, he turned the child's hands over, rubbing a salve over them he conveniently kept in his pocket.

"I'm sorry Sir, I'll go get my things."

Things? Snape raised his eyebrows at the boy, unsure of what Harry was speaking of. "Things ? Are you intending to go on a trip?" The child lifted his head slightly, confusion clouding those green orbs of his. "Just because you shattered a few pieces of my finest crystal," his lips turned up into a small smile, "does not mean I'm going to cast you out like an unwanted dog." Pickles growled slightly, softly padding over to where his newest pup stood. Harry reached out subconsciously for comfort, and Snape couldn't help but feel a small pinch of hurt at the gesture, was he not adequate to offer the boy the comfort he craved? Shaking his head, he shooed the child into the other room, taking the glasses himself. Maybe he wasn't cut out to be a guardian for the boy after all. It sure did seem that way.

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Why did the world always seem to be set on confusing him? Harry fell back against his bed, inspecting the healed wounds on his hands. If that had happened at the Dursley's, well he dreaded to think of the consequences. But Snape? Snape had just brushed it off as if Harry had simply dropped an apple from the fruit bowl and not five pieces of expensive crystal glasses. He didn't like all this uncertainty that followed his every move. Surely the man couldn't stay this patient for ever? Especially as he practically hated Harry's guts not even a month ago. Blowing out a frustrated breath, Harry turned his attention to the dog nudging his side. He'd never had a proper pet besides Hedwig, and she couldn't exactly give him comfort, not properly anyway. When he was younger, before he'd learnt that freaks like him didn't get anything they asked for, he'd often dreamed of getting a dog of his own. He even went as far as trying to adopt a stray, though his uncle soon got rid of it, he shuddered at the thought of its squeals of pain.

Pickles seemed different somehow, more tuned in to the world around him. Almost as if the dog could sense the secrets of the earth, could hear every single whisper of wind, every chirp of a cricket, every tweet of a bird. The power of many in the form of one small creature. It made sense that he was so loyal. To think that this animal had once seen, touched, loved Harry's own mother sent a small pang of jealousy through his system, the dog had felt what Harry could not. Yet he couldn't bring himself to hate the creature, it was almost impossible to do so. He may not have known his mother as Pickles had, or Snape for that matter. But he had something they never could. He had a single promise. A distant artifact that awoke at his touch alone. He had her undying love. He had her protection.

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"There you are my little traitor, sucking up to your newest companion I see." Snape watched with amusement as Pickles shot him a disinterested glance before snuggling further into Harry's side, completely ignoring the potions master. If it had been anyone else, Snape would have been deeply offended, but it was as if the animal could sense Harry needed care, and who was Snape to argue with his longtime friend.

Leaning tiredly against the door frame, he felt a small flicker of pain at the thought of subjecting the boy to another week of poison in just under seven days. He hated seeing the child so weak, so drained, and a part of him wanted to hate the boy for making him feel so much in such a short space of time. But he couldn't. He just couldn't hate the bane of his existence. No matter what the boy did, Snape just couldn't find it in him to act as he once had. Who'd have thought that an insignificant thirteen year old would muscle his way into the cold heart of the dreaded professor Snape? Yet Potter wasn't insignificant, far from it. He was being forced to play a role in a thing he couldn't control, and Snape once again found himself angry, not at the boy, but at all those who expected Harry to carry the weight of the entire wizarding world on his shoulders. It wasn't fair to expect so much of one child, especially one so fragile as Potter. And still the boy soldiered on as if it didn't affect him at all, and while Snape admired his resilience, he just couldn't stand back and watch from a distance, not anymore. No, he wouldn't allow the boy to go it alone. Even if it wasn't Snape's fight, he would be there for him, help him along for as long as he could. He couldn't save Lily. But he would sure as hell try to save her son.

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A/N: You like? Leave a review with your thoughts and any suggestions on how to improve or anything you want to see in the story :)

See you next post, nicholosaur :)


	19. Chapter 19: The Questions Begin

Disclaimer: Harry Potter still isn't mine!

A/N: I'm so sorry this is up late! I meant to finish it yesterday but my joints were acting up (I have hypermobility which causes stiffness and pain) so I spent the day watching films instead. My knees are still a little achy but my fingers are a bit better today so I managed to finish this chapter :)

I'd like to once again thank everybody that favourited and followed this story, you guys are brilliant :)

I hope you enjoy!

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You never asked for this

Nobody ever would

Caught in the middle of this dysfunction

It's your sad reality

It's your messed up family tree

And now your left with all these questions

Matthew West - Family Tree

It was too early, even Harry's internal alarm clock could see that. But no matter what he did, he just couldn't sleep. His head pounded, his stomach churned, and his joints protested with every move, yet he still couldn't just close his eyes and drift back to peace. Maybe his body liked putting him through pain? It sure did seem that way, and he found him asking that if there was a God up there, why did he or she hate him so much? Sighing tiredly to himself, he pushed himself further up the headboard, scanning the room for something, anything to do while Snape slept. Waking up his guardian would do nothing but anger him, and Harry wasn't ready to push him so far yet. No, so the only option was to suffer in silence, hoping his stomach would behave for at least a couple more hours. Even Pickles had disappeared in the night, probably sick of cuddling the ill teenager. Groaning at the pain pulsing through his brain, he leaned his body over the side of his bed, heaving up all that he had eaten the day before. Fear filled him as he heard movement in the hallway, his heart beating in time with the pounding in his head. He was definitely done for now.

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"Potter? Are you awake?" Snape pushed open the door slightly, the scent of vomit filling his nostrils. It was a good job he had a strong stomach with the teen around. "Relax Harry, I'll clean it up." Flicking his wand in the direction of the mess, he stiffled a yawn, his sleep schedule had become really messed up during the summer. The boy looked close to tears, and Snape once again cursed those damn Dursley's, who the hell would punish a child for being ill? How Snape longed to just sweep the boy into his arms, but something stopped him, clearly the child wouldn't appreciate that invasion of his personal space. "You know I would never hurt you, right?" Earning a timid nod, he felt his heart clench, was the child really scared of him?

"Professor? Why didn't the Dursley's like me? Did I do something wrong?"

It took all of Snape's willpower to not apparate on the spot and confront the pathetic excuses for humans. How could they make the child feel so unwanted? "You did nothing to them! You hear me? Nothing! What they did was unthinkable! But it was not your fault!"

.

The fierceness in Snape's voice startled young Harry, did that mean he wasn't useless? So far all he'd done was make a nuisence of himself, and yet Snape still made him feel a little more cared for. Was this what it felt like to have a parent? Something Harry never thought he'd have in his life. Mrs Weasley came close, but she had seven children already, and she just couldn't quite fill the void in his life left by that fatefull night on Halloween. But with Snape it was different, it was almost normal. He didn't have to worry about slacking on his chores, or burning the food. Everything that he'd had to do at the Dursley's was already done with the click of a finger here. The Dursley's entire hatrid was circulated around Harry's abnormal magic, but in the manor magic was the normal. Practically everything could be done with the flick of a wand, or a small shout to the faithful house elf. It didn't seem to matter to Snape that Harry was sick, or might die. Even the house welcomed him with open arms (or doors) as if it could feel his magic stiring within. He would prove the Dursley's wrong. He would show them he was lovable. He would be loved.

.

There were two things Snape noticed when he awoke later in the morning. The first? The breakfast had been cooked. The second? Pickles was back on the end of his bed. Normally that wouldn't have concerned him, but having Potter in the house had changed things, and now the fact that his trusty companion was not huddled up to his child made his blood run cold. Where was Potter? Of course he was overreacting. The house elves always worked later on the weekend regardless of whether it was the holidays or not, and surely Harry wasn't feeling up to cooking today, but it still didn't explain Pickles. The dog hadn't left the child's side since he first laid eyes on him, it just didn't seem right that the animal would ignore the boy now. The manor was unusually quiet, no footfalls, no whispering. Even the wind was almost silent. It had been a long time since Snape had found such peace and quiet, but he didn't like it as he once would have. He liked Potter making noise, at least then he had a rough guess of where the child was in the house. Now though he had no idea, and he just hoped nothing had happened while he slept. He'd never forgive himself if it did.

.

Harry looked up from his game as his professor walked in, a slightly guilty expression on his face. He'd seen the bag of purchases in the living room, and thought he would try out the gameboy to see if it was as good as Dudley made it out to be. He hadn't meant to lose track of time, and he definitely should have started on breakfast seen as the elves always got up later on Saturdays. His stomach shuddered at the mere thought of food, and it took several deep breaths to calm it enough to speak. "I found this in the bag and thought I'd... I'm sorry Sir! I'll put it-"

Snape held up his hand, cutting off the rambling teen. "That is your game my boy, you may use it when you wish, I was merely checking to make sure you were well."

Blinking in shock at the man, Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. Snape wasn't mad that he went through the bags? Shrugging slightly, he turned back to the screen, patting the space beside him for his awkwardly standing guardian to sit beside him. The man smiled at him, dropping down so close their shoulders touched. If it was anyone else Harry would have freaked out at the closeness, but this was his Professor, and he knew the man wouldn't do anything to harm him. He'd proved that more than enough times during Harry's stay, and it was comforting to have an adult to trust in his swirling world. Snape listened when no else would. Snape cared.

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A/N: How was it? Hit review and let me know! :)

Seeya next time, nicholosaur :)


	20. Chapter 20: Treatment Round Two

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Harry Potter universe.

Thank you to LittleMissChatterBox2009 for reviewing :) I hope your hypermobility doesn't give you too much trouble :)

A/N: This one is a lot longer than usual so I hope you enjoy! :)

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Are you sick and tired of being sick and tired?

Hollowed out and feeling uninspired

The question I keep asking is

What will it take to ease your worried mind

Your worried mind

Now you're letting your confusion take control

And lead you down a dark and lonely road

Even that won't last forever

Just look around and see you're not alone

You're not alone

Daughtry - Witness

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Severus Snape was not an unreasonable man. That being said, he did have little patience for incompetent nurses that couldn't so much as hook up a bag of fluids to Harry's Hickman Line without causing him unnecessary pain. It wouldn't have been as bad if she hadn't tried at least ten times, if not more, and not asked for help. The way she fluttered around, like she was better than anyone and everyone on the ward, grated on Snape's last nerve. Yet Harry seemed as calm as ever, although he knew the boy was merely being polite to the obviously unskilled nurse. Nobody in the damn hospital seemed to care that Harry wasn't getting adequate treatment, in fact many of the doctors stalked past without so much as a glance in their direction, and when the boy was well enough, Snape was going to sue them ten times over. He had tried, unsuccessfully, to convince St Mungo's to take his child in as a patient, but they flat out refused, claiming they just couldn't care for someone with such a complex disease. If he didn't want to stay on the good side of the Ministry, Snape would definitely have marched in there and complained until they did something, but if it went wrong, it would be Harry that would have to deal with the aftermath, and he just couldn't do that to his child. So they were stuck, with the nurse from hell, trudging on with barely any support. At least one good thing had happened in that hospital. The damn kid in the wheelchair was gone.

.

He hated the confined space of his hospital room. The crudely painted cartoon figures did nothing but depress young Harry further, who the hell designed the childrens ward anyway? So far he hadn't seen anyone his age that was willing to talk to him, even when he went to scope out the games room. Everyone was either eleven and under, or much too antisocial to actually have a conversation with him. At least he still had Snape, even if his guardian didn't seem to pleased to be sitting once again on the hard plastic chair beside his bed, flipping through yet another outdated magazine. Ron hadn't be allowed to visit, apparently he was still recovering from the flu and wasn't permitted on the ward, how he managed to catch it in the middle of summer remained a mystery. Though he liked seeing his bestfriend, Harry couldn't help but feeling relieved at not having to face him quite yet. Of course it would be a shock for the redhead when they did eventually see each other again, but at least Harry had figured out how to work that game he'd brought last time.

Sighing to himself, he glanced over at the bag of chemicals the doctor had just fixed up after Snape's incessant complaining. In all honesty he was glad the nurse had been ushered away, he could still see small beads of blood where she had forcibly moved the tube in an attempt to hook up the bag. How she even managed to get a job as a nurse was beyond Harry, clearly she needed a lot more training. At least Mrs Weasley wasn't there. Between her and Snape they'd have driven the poor woman as far from the hospital as she could get, and even he was above doing that to her. Squeezing his eyes shut against his rapidly churning stomach, he allowed himself to slowly drift off, hoping this week would go faster than the last time.

.

He'd lied. Lied to his mother. Lied to Harry's doctor. And he'd even lied to Snape. Yet Ron just couldn't feel guilty about his actions, especially not after seeing his bestfriend lying so pale and clearly bored out of his mind in that hospital bed. Who cared if Ron still felt ill because of that blasted flu he'd caught. They couldn't screen you for illnesses in a muggle hospital, and besides, he'd dosed himself up on pain killers and cough syrup so no one would be the wiser. After all, what was the worst that could happen? He'd save his pal from idyll chitchat with the potions master, and maybe Harry could even show him the new console he'd gotten. It wasn't as if anything bad would happen because he had a runny nose and a slight cough. He was nearly better anyway, so there really wasn't much point staying away for a few more days. Harry wouldn't be able to catch it anyway, his immune system wasn't that bad, right? Tapping lightly on the door, Ron barreled into the room, leaving Snape and his mum to go talk in the canteen. "Hiya Harry, I heard you were stuck in here again so I figured I'd keep you company!" Jumping down onto the bed beside his friend, he offered him the box of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, staring intently at the gameboy Harry had just switched on. Maybe his dad would be able to get him one for Christmas? He definitely hoped so.

.

How long could that woman talk for? Snape sipped at his foul tasting coffee, nodding politely at everything Molly Weasley said, his mind pondering over whether it was a necessity to serve bad food and beverages in hospitals, or whether they just did it for fun. No wonder Harry couldn't keep anything down with the rubbish they forced into him, a house elf would be ashamed to make this quality of food. Blinking tiredly at the over-enthusiastic woman, he wished she'd take her child and leave him to drug himself up on caffine in peace. Half the time he couldn't even work out what she was saying, though he had managed to hear something about Gringotts in dragons, though it may have slurred together after about ten minutes of hearing her natter on. Snape wasn't one for conversation, especially not with the mother-hen that clucked over Harry at any chance she got.

He was fine with the boy visiting, it gave Harry a well needed distraction, but his mother could stay at home. Breaking himself out of his thoughts, he flicked his eyes over to the clock, grateful to see the visiting hours were up. "I'm sorry to cut this short Mrs Weasley, but the visiting hours are over for the dinner period so I'm afraid your son will have to leave, though he can come back tomorrow if he wishes." He longed to add 'without you' to the end of his sentence, but he honestly didn't know how she would react, and he didn't fancy another punch to the face just yet by one of Harry's 'guardian angels'.

"Oh of course Severus, It'll be a couple of days before we visit again though, Arthur's got something planned, and it's Molly, we've known each other long enough to shed the formalities."

Downing the rest of his lukewarm coffee, he strode back down to the childrens ward, keeping enough distance between him and the mother-hen so she wouldn't strike up another conversation. She'd already stolen two hours of his time that he would never get back. Collapsing back down on his chair beside the teens bed, he waved goodbye to the redheaded duo, massaging his temple as a headache threatened to bloom. At least they'd be out of there soon. He didn't think he could stand much longer in that damn hospital.

.

When Mrs Weasley had said that Ron was recovering from the flu, Harry assumed he'd be sick for at least a few more days. That was what happened when they both got it two winters ago, and he assumed it would be the same as before. But Ron had stressed he was fine, and that the potions just had a quicker effect on him than last time. Who was Harry to argue with that? And anyway, wouldn't Mrs Weasley have made sure he wasn't still contagious before bringing him into the hospital? It was nice to have some new company, spending all of his waking hours with Snape wasn't exactly good for either of them, and Harry knew that his guardian needed time on his own. Grimacing at the plate of food in front of him, he pushed it further up the plastic table, the smell doing nothing to calm his stomach. Snape shook his head, stopping the plate with his spare hand. Couldn't the man understand that it was physically impossible for him to eat it?

"You need to eat something Harry, you can't live off air for the remainder of your treatment."

The threat from his first morning at the manor sprung to his mind, would Snape really forcefeed him if he refused? It had been an empty threat then, and the man had promised not to hurt him. Surely that extended to forcing food into him? Scooting further up the bed, Harry folded his arms, they couldn't make him put it in his mouth! He didn't want to throw up again, and if the only way to stop that was by refusing to eat, then who had the right to stop him? It would only be until the chemo stopped, then he could go back to normal meals. But until then he would just keep away from the nauseating hospital food. Anyway, what's the worst they could do?

.

Snape honestly didn't know what to do. Harry's paediatrician had specifically stated that if he didn't start taking food by the mouth, they would have to put him on tube feeding instead. It was drastic, especially after all the child had suffered through. But he knew it was the right thing to do, Harry needed it in order to keep his strength up during the treatment. Of course he had hoped that the teen would prove the doctors wrong and eat at least a quarter of his meal, but his lack of appetite had been a worry for quite a while now, and they couldn't stand by and do nothing. He knew it wasn't fully to do with the boy's inability to stomach it. Nobody could miss the fear that flickered through the child's eyes whenever they placed food in front of him. No it wasn't that he just wasn't hungry, it was that he was scared. Scared of how his body would react to the nutrients he gave it. He had every right to be scared, but it wasn't safe to allow him to carry on avoiding food, and as much as it pained Snape, he knew that the Nasogastric Tube was the only option if they were to help the child. The paediatrician gave him a nod, and with a quick glance at his defiant charge, he nodded back. He just hoped it wouldn't undo all the progress they had made with each other in the past weeks. He hoped the child would forgive him.

"Hello Harry, this is Nurse Jenkins, we're here to have a chat with you about your lack of appetite."

Snape could see the uncertainty cross over Harry's face as he eyed the team of people. Clearly he didn't trust their motives. Snape couldn't really blame him for being wary after the upbringing he'd had, but he really didn't want the child to start panicking when they brought out the tube. At least they seemed to have brought people to hold him down if necessary.

"We've decided, Mr Snape and myself, that you need a different method to help you get the nutrients you need, so we're going to temporarily insert a tube in your nose so if you don't feel like eating you'll still get everything you need."

Harry looked like a deer caught in the headlights, his head shaking back and forth so quick Snape thought it would snap of his shoulders. He hated not being able to comfort the child, especially as he looked so distraught, but it had to be done. With every step closer the medical team took, Harry moved further back, until his back was firmly planted against the headboard. They jumped forward, two holding his head still while a few others prevented him from escaping.

"No! You promised! You promised!"

His heart clenched at the words, didn't the boy realise he hadn't wanted it to come to this? At least the nurses were quick, that was probably the only good thing about the whole procedure. After ensuring the tube was in the correct place, they left the sobbing boy to curl up in a ball on the bed. Snape wished they'd have been able to sedate him, but it was risky with the chemo, and not a big enough procedure to warrant them actually putting him to sleep while they did it. Harry reached up, trying his hardest to tug the tube from his nose. Snape pulled his hands away, willing his tears to vanish as the boy attempted to blink back his own. "Stop Harry! It's for the best!"

Harry kicked out at him, his eyes filled with hatred. "No! I hate you! You promised! Just leave me alone! Just get out! I never wanna see you again!"

Choking back a sob, the man fled from the room, collapsing into a heap in the hallway. Gripping his hair as Harry had once done, he let out a tortured cry. "I'm so sorry Harry! I'm so sorry!"

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A/N: So how was it? Hit review and let me know :) If anything doesn't seem quite right just let me know!

The next chapter is currently being written so will be up soon :)

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	21. Chapter 21: Far Too Hot To Handle

Disclaimer: Nope, Harry Potter still does not belong to me!

A/N: Another chapter for you lovely people :) I'm actually surprised at how much attention this story is getting, I didn't expect many people to actually read it!

Thank you to Ribbonsandroses42 for your review, it was greatly appreciated :)

I would also like to say thank you to the guest Bronze for taking the time to review the first seven chapters, you made some valid points :)

Also to those who Favourited and Followed, you guys ROCK! ;) I hope you enjoy this chapter :)

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Cover my eyes

Cover my ears

Tell me these words are a lie

It can't be true

That I'm losing you

The sun cannot fall from the sky

RyanDan - Tears Of An Angel

* * *

He wasn't wanted. That was what Harry had specifically said, and Snape wasn't about to go against the teen's wishes. Yet he couldn't bring himself to leave the hospital, or even his post by the room door. If the child didn't want to see him, then he'd just stay hidden by the wall. It wouldn't be fair to invade Harry's space if it wasn't wanted, even if Snape longed to barge in there and demand the boy at least talk to him. Why had he agreed to the stupid tube in the first place? Running a hand through his unwashed hair, he didn't even bother glancing up at the nurse that entered Harry's room with the bag of liquid food. Nobody paid him any mind, probably accustomed to seeing distraught parents in the hallway. But Snape wasn't a distraught parent, not really. His charge had essentially said he didn't want Snape as a guardian anymore, and as much as he hated to admit it, it tore at Snape's heart. The boy wasn't just a shadow in the background of the manor anymore, he was so much more. Even Pickles had christened him part of the pack, and Snape would never go against his loyal companion's instincts. Resting his head against his chin, he felt his eyelids droop. Maybe sleep would give him the peace he couldn't find in the living world? Maybe sleep would help him forget?

.

Harry hated the damn tube. It rubbed against the inside of his nostril, and had already gotten clogged with blood sometime during the night, meaning they had switch it for a new one. It was all Snape's fault, but all the anger Harry had felt disappeared as he thought of all the man had done for him. It was him that had gotten him away from the Dursley's. Him that had found him in that cave. Him that had stuck through every nightmare and countless nights of sickness. And though he never thought he'd say it, he missed his professor. Nobody, not even his closest friends, came close to how he felt with Snape around. He was safe, safe from harm and hurt. The potions master had never hurt him, not on purpose, and if Harry thought about it, the tube did help a little. He didn't have to smell the food being pushed into his system, in fact he didn't even taste it. Plus it made him feel a little less tired. So maybe he had overreacted, maybe Snape had been right. But there was nothing he could do now, not after he'd screamed at him like that. No, he would just have to live with the consequences, and hope Snape didn't get rid of him. He'd had more than enough goodbyes in his short lifetime.

.

He missed his bestfriend, missed the way Harry always knew just how to make him laugh even if he felt like crying. Ron knew his dad had tried his best to make the summer fun on his rare day off, but in all honesty Ron just wanted to get back to his mate's bedside. The waterpark was fun, but he just couldn't enjoy it as much as he would have if Harry was there, and he still had the tail end of that damn flu. He wouldn't tell his mum though, she'd just go on about how stupid he was for lying, and then he'd be banned from seeing Harry for the rest of the summer. He'd already missed two weeks of seeing him when the flu caught him by surprise, probably from being out in the rain for so long without taking any potions. Swallowing thickly to try and clear his clogged throat, he wandered back over to the twins, trying his hardest to seem enthusiastic. He wouldn't complain, that would tip his mum of. He'd just ride it out as he had been doing for the past two days. What was the worst that could happen?

.

The coffee was as always vile, but Snape welcomed the caffeinated rush it brought. Sleep had done nothing to relieve the ache in his chest, and now he was back to his earlier trick of keeping himself awake for as long as humanly possible. It wasn't exactly ideal, far from it actually, but if Harry were to need him he had to be awake, even if it was in the form of a buzzed up zombie. Nobody batted an eye at the countless cups he drank, so it wasn't as if it would harm him too much. Besides, he'd done worse when he was a student.

Relishing in the bitter taste, he allowed his eyes to scan the practically empty canteen. Visiting hours were over for the morning, so most people had gone back to their lives. Only the parents and guardians remained, and Snape gave a knowing nod to a father currently sipping his own coffee. Nobody else could understand the torture it was to have a critically ill child apart from those that he saw day in and day out, struggling against their own drooping eyelids as they gave themselves another boost with the bitter liquid. If only the Dark Lord could see him now, fretting over the Boy-Who-Lived like any concerned parent would. Squashing the Styrofoam cup between his hands, he tossed in the direction of the bin, rising clumsily to his feet. He may not be able to get Harry to talk to him, but he would definitely try talking to the boy. He just couldn't stand the silence anymore.

.

His whole body felt like it was on fire, burning from the inside out, and the more he tried to claw out, the worse it became. Of course it was all in his head, just his body fighting off a small infection, but to Harry, it felt as though someone had set alight his bones and was watching as they slowly disintegrated, and he hated it. He wanted them to just end it there and then, to just let him die and stop the pain. But he knew if they ever asked he would outright refuse, he would not give up. That would be like letting Vernon win, and he would most certainly never do that. To give in would be to admit defeat and never had Harry Potter admitted defeat, not even when he was younger, locked in a cage of fear had he given up on life. There was always better life out there, you just had to reach out at the right moment. Hope had been what kept him going when it seemed impossible. Hope had allowed him to live, if briefly, when the world crumbled around him. Hope had kept him alive when all else had died. And it would be hope that would see him through his treatment. After all every child has to dream of something.

.

"Open your eyes for me Harry! Let me see those eyes!" Snape's voice was on the edge of panic, his gaze flicking between the boy's face and the haywire machines. What was happening to the child? His skin felt much to hot against Snape's hand, and as a pained cry pushed itself through the boy's lip, he knew he was powerless to stop it. There was nothing he could do but watch as nurses flitted around him, hooking up a drip and setting icepacks along the feverish body. This couldn't be the way the child died, not now, not before he had gotten to show him just how good life could be if you had love. Love. Did he really love his enemy's child? As the machine protested wildly at the rocketing temperature and uneven heart beats, Snape collapsed against the bed, not even bothering to hide the tears. Yes, he thought desperately, he did love Harry, more than anything in the world.

* * *

A/N: So how was it? Not too bad I hope!

Review and let me know what you think :)

Seeya tomorrow, nicholosaur :)


	22. Chapter 22: Annessa The Isolation Angel

Disclaimer: I still own nothing of Harry Potter. Annessa however is mine :)

Thank you to the new people who Favourited and Followed!

I didn't have any new reviews to look forward to but I'm glad that everyone seems to be enjoying the story :)

On with the chapter!

* * *

Sometimes you think you'll be fine by yourself

Cause a dream is a wish that you make all alone

It's easy to feel like you don't need help

But it's harder to walk on your own

You'll change inside

When you realize

The world comes to life

And everything's bright

From beginning to end

When you have a friend

By your side

That helps you to find

The beauty you are

When you open your heart

And believe in

The gift of a friend

Demi Lovato - Gift Of A Friend

* * *

Harry was in a tunnel. Every movement felt heavy, like he was swimming in glue, and try as he might, he just couldn't get to the bright light at the very end of the darkened place. He wanted to get out of that place, sooner rather than later. Why was he even in there in the first place? A voice echoed through the brick structure, filling Harry's ears with its sweet and lonely sound. Snape? But where was Snape? The voice seemed to be coming from the other end of the tunnel, from the dim light that seemed miles away. Could Snape be looking for him? Perhaps if he waded his way towards the other light he'd find his professor and apologise for all the inconsiderate things he said? Making up his mind he started the long, tiring swim, following the panicked tone of the potions master's voice. He didn't want to be in that dark tunnel anymore. He wanted Snape.

.

The first thing Harry noticed when he awoke was that he was no longer in his room. The wall to his right was covered from floor to ceiling in glass, and though the blinds were shut to keep out the light, he could make out the blurred movement of a person pacing the corridor. His chest was on fire, and a tube down his throat made it impossible to speak, as much as he wanted to.

"You're awake then? I thought you were never gonna wake up!"

Startling slightly, his eyes flicked to his left, trying to make out who the blurred shape was. A hand fell across his vision, pressing his much needed glasses to his face. At least he could see now. The girl looked absolutely ridiculous, with a mask across her face, and a strange apron tied around her pyjamas. Harry would've laughed if he could make a sound with the uncomfortable thing shoved down his throat.

"I'm Annessa, and you're Harry."

Before he could even attempt to ask her how she knew his name, even though it wouldn't have worked anyway, she pointed out a sign above his head, a muffled giggle reaching his ears. At least she found the situation funny. Harry couldn't find the humour in it. He was stuck in an unfamiliar room with a bunch of tubes and wires attached to him, including one that looked suspiciously like it was coming from inside his chest.

"You're in isolation on the Fox Ward so you don't get any sicker, I had to sneak in while the nurses were dealing with some kid who stopped breathing."

She said it so matter of factly that Harry was stunned, was it daily occurrence in this place for people to stop breathing? Maybe that's what the thing in his throat was for? He hoped they'd remove it soon, he really didn't appreciate having air forced into his lungs when he was almost certain he could breathe on his own. What the hell was the Robin Ward anyway? He was pretty sure that wasn't one of the wards in his hospital. His eyes once again darted round the room, where was Snape?

"Your dad, or whoever that guy was, went to shower, he'll be back soon I suppose." She stood, pausing by the door. "I'll see you around Harry, don't forget to breathe."

.

He was losing his touch. Severus Snape, the most feared professor in all of Hogwarts, had transitioned into something he feared above all else, a mother-hen! He cast a gaze towards the other parents of both the Fox and the Robin wards, knowing the familiar haunted look all to well. They understood, well most of them anyway, what it was like to have a critically ill child. But despite their understanding, Snape just couldn't bring himself to strike up a conversation, knowing it would lead to the inevitable crumbling of his composure.

Instead he continued to inhale cup after cup of the surprisingly good coffee this hospital provided. Harry had been moved, rather unexpectedly, from the original muggle hospital to The Great Ormond Street Hospital in London for more specialised care. The food at least appeared to be better, and Snape even had a bed inside Harry's room to get a goodnight's sleep without having to camp out on them awful plastic chairs. It was nice, he had to admit that, but the uneasy feeling stayed buried within his stomach. How had Harry even come in contact with such an infection? The doctor had said he was suffering from Bacterial Pneumonia, but they had been cautious of who visited. In fact only he and the two Weasley's had come into contact with him since their trip shopping, and it had to have been passed on to him in the last couple of days. Snape was at a loss of who could have passed it on to his child, and if he found out who had he would not hesitate to send a few hexes their way. There was no way in hell he was letting someone get away with almost killing his child.

.

Never before had Harry wanted to be left alone so much in his life. His head was swimming with a mixture of the strongest pain relief he'd ever had and the sleep deprivation he was currently suffering from, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up and sleep his life away. Unfortunately for him, now the nurses had been tipped off that he was awake, they spent the next couple of hours fluttering about him, performing all sorts of tests that Harry really didn't care about. The tube in his throat, he learned, was helping him breathe while he was unconscious, and the one in his chest was there to drain off the fluid that had inhibited his airflow. He lost track of what the other equipment was, instead carrying on his search for the one person he wanted to see, Snape. Annessa had said he was taking a shower, but that didn't take this long, did it? Maybe he just got sick of caring for Harry? That made sense, at least to Harry it did. Once again watching the nurse he'd forgotten the name of emptying a bag attached to that chest tube thing, he flicked his eyes hopefully to the door, fixing them back on the wall as Annessa walked in instead.

The nurse appeared more surprised than Harry, her expression stern. "You know you're not supposed to be in here, now off you go little miss."

Annessa seemed unphased by the harsh tone, settling herself by the boy in the bed. "He's my friend, and I guarantee he'd rather have my company than yours, and his dad and Ezra gave me permission."

She did have a point. Harry would take the company of the girl he hardly knew over the nurse with no name anyday, she seemed much friendlier. Besides, Snape would hopefully be back soon and then he'd be relieved both their company. Closing his fingers around the girl's offered hand, he found himself liking the silent company of someone his own age. He'd spent too long with people years older than him, and apart from Ron, he'd had no contact with other teenagers. Closing his eyes against the blinding light the nurse had just switched on, he felt himself being lulled to sleep by the dulcet tones of the heart machine. He liked this hospital better than the last one. He just hoped they could stay there for the rest of his treatment.

.

"Mr Snape? Harry woke a couple of hours ago and his condition has improved greatly, the antibiotics seem to be working, he's currently sleeping but should be awake in a few more hours."

Snape forced out a gust of air, his shoulders drooping in relief. Harry was improving, he was getting better. The few parents left in the room gave him encouraging smiles, a few offered choice words of congratulations. It felt nice, amid all the chaos, to have people who understood his pain. Nodding politely at the people, he followed the nurse back to his son's room, watching the boy through the glass. The girl he'd met earlier sat perched on his usual chair, her head resting on the bed as she too slept on. He hadn't really thought when he gave her permission to enter, after all he wasn't really in a good state. But now he was glad at least someone had been there when Harry woke up, even if he wasn't there himself.

He wouldn't wake them up, not yet. Clearly the girl needed her sleep just as much as Harry did. The doctor had assured him that she couldn't catch the infection as long as she followed the precautions set in place, so who was Snape to refuse her the chance of visiting Harry. It would be nice for him to have at least one friend in the unfamiliar place, and maybe he'd be much more comfortable with all the procedures if someone his own age described them. Leaning a shoulder against the window, he allowed his vision to wander around the word. The staff seemed so much more friendly here, and a lot more devoted to the patients. Maybe it had something to do with it being a children's hospital, but Snape found himself a lot more relaxed in these corridors than the one's of the old hospital. Here they didn't ignore Harry. Here he knew his son had a chance of getting better.

* * *

A/N: How did you find it? Good? Bad? Hit review and let me know :)

I bet everyone can figure out where Harry got the infection from ;)

I'm sorry this is late but I spent yesterday watching films. You guys should definitely watch The Heart Of Christmas, and Matching Jack. They are two of my favourite films :)

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	23. Chapter 23: Forty-Four Cups Of Coffee

Disclaimer: As much as I wish I did, I do not, nor will I ever, own Harry Potter. Annessa is mine though!

A/N: This is late on and I apologise, last minute homework got in the way yesterday. Sorry!

Thank you to Ribbonsandroses42 for taking the time to review, I'm glad you seem to be enjoying it :)

* * *

Everybody needs inspiration

Everybody needs a song

A beautiful melody

When the nights are long

'cause there is no guarantee

That this life is easy

Yeah when my world is falling apart

When there's no light

To break up the dark

That's when I, I

I look at you

Miley Cyrus - When I look At You

* * *

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Harry jumped at the sound, his hand hovering inches from the tube in his chest. It wasn't uncomfortable, not much anyway, and they kept him dosed up on enough painkillers to knock out an elephant. But the damn thing just didn't look right poking out of his skin, and just thinking about it made him queasy, which wouldn't go down well with the ventilator rammed down his throat. Luckily they were talking about weaning him off it, which Harry didn't think would come soon enough. He wanted to talk, to tell Snape he was sorry, and to scream at the nurse that was always trying to send Annessa away. He couldn't do any of those things with that thing, and it wasn't like he actually needed the blasted thing. Surely he could breathe on his own, in fact he was pretty sure he'd been doing just that since he'd woken up, Annessa had said so anyway. It only kicked in if he stopped breathing for too long, and so far that hadn't happened, so he didn't see why they couldn't just take it away, and the chest tube with it.

Sighing heavily, not an easy thing to do with limited throat space, he once again flicked his eyes over to his new friend. She always seemed to pop up when he least expected it, and he never heard her enter which just freaked him out. His senses, especially his hearing, had been heightened after living with the Dursley's for so many years, but he just couldn't seem to pinpoint when or how she had entered the room without anyone noticing. Coughing against the pipe, he felt himself drifting off. He didn't want to sleep! He wanted to go home. Why couldn't anyone understand that?

.

Forty-four. That was the number of coffee cups Snape had gone through since they had arrived, soon to be forty-five. But who was counting? Rubbing the back of his neck where a sore spot had blossomed, he blinked away the drowsiness that settled over him like a black cloud. He wasn't the only one, a few other parents had yet to sleep more than a few hours, but from the looks even they gave him, Snape knew he was by far the worst. It wasn't his fault. He was new to the whole hospital thing, and it was a minor miracle he hadn't run for the hills after spending so long in the confines of either Harry's small cubicle, or the parents room. Though it was better than the canteen at the old hospital. At least here you got relative peace and quiet, and the coffee didn't taste like week old socks, not that he knew what they tasted like or anything.

Fox ward, he still had to get used to that. It was on every bit of paperwork he'd seen of Harry's, but it still felt foreign, like it wasn't really there. Not that anyone could blame him, they had just moved from plain old ward six, or as Harry had called it 'The Ward From Hell.' This ward seemed better, even though it was mainly the isolation rooms, and Snape was sure even Harry would be impressed with the teen room when he got the all clear to leave his room. Absentmindedly stirring the plastic stick around his drink, he inhaled the bitter fumes, closing his eyes against the world. He just wanted to leave, to get out of there before he turned into a piece of the furniture, or his blood turned to coffee, whichever came first. Though the latter seemed much more likely, especially if he carried on the way he was at the moment. They'd only been there two days, and already he'd broken the record for the most cups drunk on both the Fox and Robin wards. Maybe they'd put his picture on the wall? Smirking at the thought, he dropped the mug into the dishwasher, grateful they at least had proper cups here. Taking in a deep breath, he watched a few visitors pass by along the corridor. Where the hell were all of Harry's visitors?

.

Do penguins have knees? Harry thought it over in his head, realising if he didn't get out of that room soon he would slowly go mad. Annessa had gone to have some sort of test, and though he didn't know why, Harry's heart longed for her to come back. Snape wasn't anywhere to be seen, but that wasn't really a new thing, not when there was nothing the man could physically do to help. Harry had noticed that with the potions master, the way he could sit around a child all day that may need his attention, but as soon as said child was confined to a bed with a host of wires and tubes sticking from a variety of different places then he'd make himself scarce, and as Annessa had put it, 'Inhale the hospital's coffee supply.' It did sound like Snape, and though he missed having the man by his side during the day, he did have Annessa. She was different, in an extremely good way, and he found it was almost like having a less strict Hermione around. Maybe they could all be friends when they both got out of the damn hospital?

"Hey noodlebrain, thinking about how long it'll take until your head turns to mush?"

Ah noodlebrain. Harry didn't even know where the nickname had come from, she just came out with it sometime during his groggy hours of yesterday, and now that was all she'd call him. Something to do with drooling in his sleep, which he most certainly did not do! Clearly it was something off the ventilator. Smiling around the tube, he patted the space beside him, jerking his head towards the book they'd been reading. Well she'd been reading to him, he'd been a bit preoccupied with using all of his willpower to not tear every single thing from his body, how many tubes and machines did the hospital have anyway? Harry was sure they'd used over half on him, if not more.

Scratching a particularly itchy spot on his chest, he followed her finger as she spoke, pronouncing each word in a strange, animated voice he had once heard his aunt use when Dudley was small. Of course no one had used that voice on him, not before Annessa that was, and he found himself actually enjoying the weird way she brought the characters to life. So preoccupied in the book, he failed to notice the odd rash blossoming on his chest, or the puffiness just beneath his nose. When he had dropped off, Annessa had innocently assumed he was asleep. In fact it wasn't until the the machines sounded that anybody realised something was seriously wrong. But the whirring of the once silent ventilator sent fear rising in the girl's throat. Harry had stopped breathing, and that could only be a bad sign. Something was seriously wrong.

* * *

A/N: How did you find it? Hit review and let me know :)

Can anyone guess what happened to our wonderful Boy-Who-Lived? ;)

The next chapter will be up as soon as I get round to writing it, as I went back to school today so it's gonna be a pretty hectic week!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	24. Chapter 24: A Germ Free Bubble

Disclaimer: I'm working on it ;)

A/N: This is shorter than normal but I have an Environmental Science test tomorrow so I need to revise. Sorry!

It was a good guess Ribbonsandroses42 but not correct ;) It's a lot simpler than that :)

* * *

I open my eyes

I try to see but I'm blinded by the white light

I can't remember how

I can't remember why

I'm lying here tonight

And I can't stand the pain

And I can't make it go away

No I can't stand the pain

How could this happen to me

I made my mistakes

I've got no where to run

The night goes on

As I'm fading away

I'm sick of this life

I just wanna scream

How could this happen to me

Simple Plan - Untitled

* * *

An allergy? His son had an allergy? To hypoallergenic micropore tape? Couldn't the little guy catch a break? Snape shifted on the parents room couch, staring down at the small booklet in his hand with limited interest. He didn't want to go to the Tower of London, not without Harry anyway, and it just seemed like a kick in the face to put the leaflet in the hospital, almost like they were saying "Look what you could enjoy if your kid wasn't fighting for their life." It may have been funny if Harry wasn't sleeping in the closest thing they could get to a germ free bubble, the rash only just starting to recede after countless antihistamines. Snape thought Annessa would have been scared off, but she dutifully sat by Harry's bedside, when even he couldn't.

A thought still niggled at his brain though, where were her parents? The girl roamed the hospital all day when she wasn't teasing Harry, and Snape had yet to see someone visit her, let alone sit at her bedside for hours on end as he had done at one point for Harry. At one point he probably would have sneered at the way she didn't seem to have anyone remotely like a parental figure, but now he found himself concerned for not only her safety, but her overall well-being as well. Tossing the taunting booklet back on the coffee table, he pushed himself up before he ended up molded to the spot. The nurses would be back from doing their rounds by now, and he'd probably be able to hound them for information while his boy slept. After all what else was there to do in the hospital?

.

"I want to see him mum! It's been ages! And I'm sure he's sick of Snape by now!"

Molly Weasley pushed her youngest son back through into the kitchen, resisting the urge to just stick him to the chair and leave for the day. "Harry's very sick Ronald, they're only letting a few approved visitors in while he's so poorly, you can see him when he gets a little better." The scowl told her he wasn't going to let it go, and Molly bit down on her lip to keep in a groan, why was he so stubborn?

"Please mum! I'm not ill in the slightest so I can't give him anything! And I'll even use that weird soap tap thing!"

Rubbing a hand across her eyebrows, she slumped in defeat. Maybe it would Ron some good to see his friend for even just five minutes? "Santiser dear, it's called hand santiser. You can go on one condition." She watched as he regarded her suspiciously, unsure whether she could be trusted. "You have to degnome the entire garden."

.

Could you actually die of boredom? Harry reached a hand towards the nearby book, his weak fingers failing to grasp the thin pages, if he didn't get better soon he would definitely find out. How could he even be allergic to the medical tape? The nurses had covered him in some sort of cream, and it burned despite the amount of pain pills pumped into him. The itching was the worst though. But he couldn't scratch, they'd made sure of that. Thick bandages covered most of his chest, and he didn't really want to go through the process of pulling them off just to have a good scratch, no matter how tempting it was. There was also the small detail of the doctor who had threatened to tie his hands down and tickle him until he gave up, which didn't sound like fun at all.

The Gameboy sat abandoned on the windowsill, and if he could perform wandless magic he would have accioed it hours ago. But he couldn't, and they were in a muggle hospital anyway. The ministry would have his hide if he performed underage magic while laying in a heavily populated building, not to mention Snape would almost certainly lock him in the manor for the rest of eternity, if he even lived that long. It didn't seem likely at that moment in time, especially with the damn tube still planted firmly in his throat. So much for being weaned off it before the week was up, knowing his luck he'd be stuck with that thing for the rest of his life, which looked depressingly short. At least he wouldn't die alone, something he'd feared when he was six. Now he had Annessa, and even Snape to sit with him through the agonizing time. Ron would come, and Hermione of course, to say goodbye, and maybe even Sirius would make it. Blinking away his tears, he shook his head. He couldn't die. He couldn't leave Snape all alone. He just couldn't.

.

His boy was asleep. Harry seemed to do that a lot lately, and it was worrying to say the least. What had happened to the kid that could loop around the Quidditch pitch endlessly, or at least until he was dragged in by his friends or, failing that, an adult. Now he barely had enough energy to lift his arm, and Snape once again wondered why everything had to be so against the child. It wasn't as if he'd done anything to deserve such a thing, especially not twice, but there was no way of reversing it, or simply magicking it away. For once Snape was so far out of his depth it was surprising he hadn't drowned already. There was no potion, or complex spell to perform. Nothing but a bag of toxic chemicals, a cocktail of different tablets, and a dash of hope to get them through. It didn't seem right, and he longed to punish someone, anyone, who had the slightest thing to do with it. Stroking the back of the too still boy's hand, he pressed his lips to his son's forehead. There had to be someway to help him. Some forgotten ingredient with magical healing qualities. He just had to find it. Even if it was the last thing he ever did.

.

It was a good job Ron enjoyed Harry's company, otherwise he'd have strangled his friend for being sick enough to land himself in hospital. Ron never wanted to see one of those gnomes again, and the sickly coloured bruises he sported along his body reminded him of his morning every step he took. At least he was allowed to spend the morning with his bestmate, that would be worth flinging a hundred gnomes. Rubbing his hands together with the strange smelling gel that always clung to his skin for days after no matter how many times he washed his hands, he scrambled after the retreating figure of his mother. Why had they moved Harry to another hospital? Was there something wrong with the last one? Fox Ward. Ron smirked at the name, he guaranteed they'd be able to laugh about it all morning. Shaking the snowglobe he'd spent many painstaking hours making, he approached the window his mother was frozen at, wondering what on earth could be so distressing. Following her gaze with his own eyes, the snowglobe slipped from his hands, shattering into fragments as it hit the ground. What had he done?

* * *

A/N: Good? Bad? Monstrous? Let me know in the reviews! :)

I bet you guys weren't expecting such a simplistic reason to Harry's decline ;)

I have cadets tomorrow so I may not be able to post the next chapter, it all depends on what time I get home.

Seeya next time, nicholosaur :)


	25. Chapter 25: A Visit From McGonagall

Disclaimer: The only character I own is Annessa!

A/N: Sorry about not posting yesterday! I got hooked on watching Educating Yorkshire, and then a new film was put on Netflix that I just had to watch so I neglected you guys!

Just in case anyone was wondering, you can have an allergy to Micropore tape. I have it, it was diagnosed when I was born because my mother was induced three weeks early due to diabetes and I was put in an incubator to sort out my low blood sugar and the arm they stuck the tape on to keep the drip in swelled up.

No new reviews for the previous chapter, but I'm pretty sure more people have Followed and Favourited the story so thank you to them!

* * *

Give me any reason to believe

'Cause I swear I'm done here

'Cause I've seen a bigger picture

And I'm looking for some answers

Tell me that it's worth it

'Cause I'm doing all I can to fight it

And I've never been this scared

And my moment's finally here

Time's racing (Please slow down)

I got to find my way out

I'm hopeless (But hoping)

My lungs won't fail me now

'Cause I'm still breathing

Mayday Parade - Still Breathing

* * *

"Sorry! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

All that Snape could do was stare down at the redhead in shock as the boy dissolved into tears. That child had almost killed his son? Snape should have felt angry, furious even, but he just couldn't bring himself to raise his voice at the upset boy. Before the summer he wouldn't have so much as hesitated before launching into a lengthy lecture about the stupidity of the entire thing, but Harry had changed him, and he didn't know whether it was for the better. Was it really his right to punish the child? No doubt Molly would lay it on him when they got home anyway, and screen him whenever they visited. Snape still had anger bubbling under the surface, diluted yes, but still there. But was it actually directed at the small redhead? Or at the situation in general?

It was bound to happen eventually, especially in the old hospital. It was idiotic to do it, to lie like he had, but could Snape really blame the boy for something anyone would have done? He knew the answer as soon as the question entered his mind. If it was his Lily, Snape would have stormed into the hospital, illness or not. The whole thing was beyond foolish, and if Harry had died the entire situation would have been completely different, but Harry had lived, had pulled through, and was now in a much better place. They actually seemed to care about his welfare here, so in a way the Weasley child had done them a favour, even if it came at such a high price. "Calm yourself boy, you couldn't have known this would happen." The words only seemed to make the child worse as he kneeled in the remains of that damn snowglobe, both knees torn and bloody, and Snape was at a loss of what to do. Even Molly seemed unsure of whether to comfort or reprimand her son, and Snape couldn't exactly blame her for hesitating. Shaking his head as the boy sniffed loudly, Snape resisted the urge to smack his head against the glass wall. He was in for a long day.

.

Someone was crying. Harry could hear the wounded sound from his spot on the bed, and though the nurse had closed the blinds sometime during his sleep, the distinguishable shapes of at least three people, one that was either extremely short or sitting on the ground, were still visible. Annessa merely shrugged as his questioning gaze, adding another doodle to the already crowed page. The tube of the fluid attached to the PICC Line in her arm seemed to get in the way everytime she turned the page, and Harry could see she was getting frustrated with the whole thing. At least the Hickman Line left his hands free.

"Why do people cry so much on this ward? It kills the vibe."

Harry snorted through his nose, not an easy task with a tube up it, his mouth pulled into as much of a grin as possible with the dreaded respirator blocking taking up most of the his mouth. Annessa never cared that he couldn't answer, or that he wasn't even able to comfort her as she did for him. Ron and Hermione had been good friends when he was at Hogwarts, but neither would come close to understanding the way he felt like Annessa did, she had after all been through it before. Of course had many other of the patients she had described in great lengths, yet he didn't exactly want to see them, let alone get to know them, he'd much rather just stay with Annessa. She always knew how to lighten the mood, and make him feel comfortable when nobody else could. It almost made the infection worth it, if he hadn't become really ill he never would have met her. She smiled back, rolling her eyes as an argument broke out in the corridor over what sounded like a snowglobe. At least he could never say the hospital was dull.

.

Ron curled up on his bed, his head buried beneath his pillow as he tried to block out the images of his bestmate lying in that hospital bed. He had done that to Harry, he had made him so sick, and there was nothing he could do to help. Even the stupid snowglobe was broken beyond muggle repair, and the cleaner had swept it up with a disgruntled look, which made Ron cringe when he thought of how he reacted to her. His mum had confiscated his broom, and banned him from leaving the house for two weeks, but he didn't care. He deserved it for doing what he did, for almost killing Harry. She had said he wasn't confined to his room, but he couldn't face everybody, not now. His mum would tell them what he had done, and then they'd all hate him. A voice called to him from the floor below, but he didn't answer it, hoping they would just go away. No such luck. Footsteps thundered up his stairs, maybe the twins were coming to beat him up for what he did? Closing his eyes, he chocked back another sob, stilling his movements to give the intruders the illusion he was asleep. He didn't want the twins, or his mum for that matter. He wanted Harry.

.

It was whispering that woke him, a sort of hurried sound that filled his heart with dread, what was going on? Harry blinked tiredly at the blurry figures, rubbing at his eyes. The nurses always took his glasses off, and it was beginning to get annoying. He liked to see, and it wasn't like he could roll over and break them in his sleep. The whispering stopped abruptly when the door swished open, revealing another blurred person.

"What happened to him? Why didn't you tell us he was moved? We had to hear it from Molly!"

McGonagall? What was she doing there? And why did she feel the need to shout? Coughing as the tube shifted again, he reached out blindly for his glasses, tangling his arm in the tubes coming from the Hickman Line. A darkened hand reached over him and gently brought the room into focus, rubbing at his bald head before reluctantly breaking contact.

"I didn't realise I needed to report everything to you, and if you haven't noticed I've got more important things to do!"

Did they have to argue so much? It was all his his fault, Harry was the cause of their heated discussion, and it made him feel worse than ever. He was always upsetting people. When had Mrs Weasley come by? He couldn't remember her stopping, but then again he couldn't remember much of what happened since he'd arrived, painkillers work wonders for making you forget.

"I knew it was a bad idea letting him stay with you! You clearly can't care for him properly! You should've screened everyone that came in contact with him!"

Harry's heart sped up at the thought of being taken away from his professor, didn't the woman understand that it wasn't the man's fault. The machine protested wildly, beeping angrily at the interruption, at least he was still breathing on his own. Traitor tears dropped from his eyes, sliding down his cheeks and onto the blanket. They couldn't take him away, it wasn't Snape's fault! A hand clutched his, but he didn't dare look who it was for fear of it being McGonagall, he never wanted to see her again.

"It's okay Harry, I'm not going anywhere, Dumbledore wouldn't do that to you."

He squeezed tightly at his only lifeline, his chest rising and falling at a rapid rate. A nurse shooed the woman from the room, muttering about interfering old biddies, and even Snape had quietly laughed at that, the sound giving Harry a little joy, if only briefly. Snape had said it would be okay. Snape had said he wouldn't leave. But could he really trust him? Or would it all crash down as it always did? After all who could ever want someone as pathetic as Harry? Who could ever love him? Especially they way he was now. Laying in the semi-dark room with only his guardian to cling to, he tried to keep the thoughts at bay. Of course nobody would ever love him. He was Harry Potter. He was a freak. And he was almost certainly going to die.

* * *

A/N: I hope you liked it! Leave a review to let me know what you thought :)

The next chapter will be up either tomorrow or monday

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	26. Chapter 26: Sir Pickles The Therapy Dog

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe!

A/N: I hope you guys are enjoying this story! Though it's not essential you write one, reviews do make me smile :)

Thank you to the people who have Liked and Favourited, your support is greatly appreciated on this journey :)

* * *

You walked with me

Footprints in the sand

And helped me understand

Where I'm going

You walked with me

When I was all alone

With so much unknown

Along the way

Then I heard you say

I promise you

I'm always there

When your heart is filled with sorrow and despair

I'll carry you

When you need a friend

You'll find my footprints in the sand

I see my life

Flash across the sky

So many times have I been so afraid

And just when I

I thought I'd lost my way

You gave me strength to carry on

Leona Lewis - Footprints In The Sand

* * *

It was a funeral, his own funeral. He could hear the cruel laughter of his relatives, see the sick smiles twisting their features. Snape was there, his expression neutral, his eyes narrowed at the coffin with resentment. Harry tried to call out, to reach through the surrounding fog. Nobody could hear him though, and as he stumbled backwards and fell into a hidden body of water, not one person tried to save him. Just before his head disappeared, he saw the unforgiving gaze of Snape, staring right at him.

"You ruined my life you damn boy! Have fun in hell!"

.

Harry's breathing filled the room, quick and uneven, as he shot up, gulping down air like his life depended on, which if you think about it, it kinda did. The ventilator had been removed yesterday, and he was anxious not to go back on it, ever again. At least he could talk now, even if his voice was croaky and cracked from lack of use. Pushing himself further up the headboard, he doubled over in a coughing fit, startling the man lying next to him.

"Harry?! Harry are you okay?!"

Straightening up again, he rolled his eyes at the clearly sleep deprived potions master, nodding slowly. At least he wasn't nauseous yet, though he knew that would soon change. The chemo had been restarted as soon as the worst of the infection was over, and now that only a tiny cough remained, he was back to having his body invaded by vicious chemicals. "I'm fine, just couldn't sleep." Couldn't sleep. That had been his excuse a lot lately, that and he was too tired. If he didn't want to see someone, he'd say he was too tired. If he wanted to keep the nightmares at bay, he'd say he couldn't sleep. Snape always had dreamless sleep potions on hand, and after making sure there would be no ill side-effects, was more than to supply one every once in a while. Of course Harry couldn't have too many, that would slowly drive him insane, but it was nice to have a welcomed break from it all. Rubbing at his eyes before pushing the glasses onto his nose, he stretched out his arms, relishing in the new-found freedom. Only a few more days before the chest tube was removed, and then he'd be able to go home and wallow in self-pity all by himself, if they even discharged him. It wasn't looking likely, not after so many setbacks. Frowning at the monitors with dislike, he resisted the urge to pull off the wires, the beeping doing nothing to squash his pounding headache.

In all honesty, he didn't really want to go home, not after all that had happened with Snape and McGonagall. He didn't exactly trust Dumbledore in not sending him away from Snape, and Harry wouldn't care if he never saw his head of house again. She had no right to threaten his professor like that, even if he wasn't quite sure whether or not Snape could be fully trusted. He did have Annessa at the hospital though, so in someways it was better than home. Home was where there were barely any rules, and any form of routine was practically nonexistent. But there, in his little bubble, he could forget about things for a while. Nothing from the wizarding world mattered while he stayed there. There was no Voldemort, or Malfoy, or Dementors. Even Snape was a changed man beyond the confines of the castle. So maybe being sick was really a blessing? Maybe it was his body's way of giving him everything he'd once dreamed of? Maybe it was his way of living?

.

"Mr S? Mr S? Mr S!"

Something or someone hissed in Snape's ear, rousing him from a rather strange dream of a chicken and a Hypogriff. Cracking open one eye in an attempt to limit the damage that someone was doing with a torch, he mumbled something incoherently, wanting to be back in his weird dream.

"Mr S the doctor wants to speak to you! Get up!"

Finally registering the words, his eyes darted to the sleeping boy next to him, was something wrong with Harry? Cracking his neck in an eerie manner, he heaved himself up from his current sleeping spot, following the girl out the door. The doctor better have good reason for dragging him out of bed, he was sleep deprived at the best of times. Sliding down the corridor in a pair of odd socks, Snape felt almost like he'd been transported to his teenage years again. Even Annessa looked at him strangely, but he was much to tired to care. In fact he was pretty sure he was just running off caffeine fumes at that moment in time, one of the nurses had hidden the coffee for the greater good of his health. It wasn't as if he'd drank a lot, maybe five-hundred cups in total over both treatment weeks, and the time spent in isolation. It calmed him down, well slightly anyway, and it wasn't like he would become addicted. Though he was seriously thinking about getting a machine for his home, and his living quarters at Hogwarts. Rapping urgently on the door of the man's office, he took a deep, calming breath. It had to be good news. If not he didn't think he would cope.

.

Something wet nuzzled at Harry's hand, did the nurses really feel the need to wipe them down every hour? A strange whining sound came from his left, wait nurses didn't whine, did they? Moving his hand further down the source, he came into contact with something fluffy, and said fluffy thing barked happily at the attention. Why was there barking in the hospital? "Pickles?" The dog was clearly pleased to see his pup, his tail whipping back and forth at an impressive speed. "What's Pickles doing here?"

Snape shook his head, leaning against the doorframe of the room. "I think you'll find that's Sir Pickles, and he is a registered therapy dog."

Since when did Harry's room not have a door? And why were there toys scattering the floor? Bringing a hand up to his face, he found some sort of mask thing blocking his mouth. How had he not noticed that before? Pickles nudged against his leg, wanting all the attention he could get from the boy. "Sir Pickles?"

A grin broke out on Snape's face at Harry's confusion, though he tried to downplay his amusement. "I thought he deserved a title, he is a highly regarded member of the Snape household after all."

Rolling his eyes at his guardian, Harry rubbed lovingly at the dog's head. It had been awhile since anything remotely normal had happened in his life, and it felt refreshing to be able to let go of his troubles for a few minutes. A giggle caught his attention, and he couldn't help but smile behind the mask at his new friend. Without the respirator he could finally talk to her, to let her know that if the time came, he would do for her what she had done for him. "Hey Annessa, meet Sir Pickles." She attempted a smile, approaching the dog with an almost wary expression. She couldn't be afraid of a big softy like Pickles, so why was she so hesitant? The germs! Of course. She didn't technically need to wear a mask out in the open, so it would make sense for her to be scared of what she could catch from an unfamiliar animal.

"I wanted to ask you something Harry." She fiddled with the animal's ears, her confidence having abandoned her. "There's this disco in a few days, for the kids on Fox, Robin and Elephant wards, and I wondered if you'd like to come, your doctor said you could." Noticing his apprehension, she quickly began to talk again. "Of course you don't have to go with me, I'm sure you'll make lots of friends and-"

Holding up his hand, he shook his head to quieten her. "I'd love to go, anything to get me away from that damn room." Grinning at her, he slipped down from the wheelchair, cuddling up to the animal on the floor. It looked like luck was on his side after all.

* * *

A/N: So did you guys like it? This chapter was maybe a little on the boring side, but I wanted to add Pickles back in because it's been a while since our furry friend was seen! Let me know if anything needs improving, or if you'd like anything added! :)

Seeya next chapter, nicholosaur :)


	27. Chapter 27: A Night To Remember

Disclaimer: Harry Potter still isn't mine!

A/N: Another chapter for my amazing readers!

Thank you too the new people who have Favourited and Followed!

On with the chapter!

* * *

We all have a story to tell

Whether we whisper or yell

We all have a story of adolescence and all it's glory

We all have a story to tell

Oh happily ever after

Wouldn't you know?

Wouldn't you know?

Oh skip to the ending

Who'd like to know?

I'd like to know

Author of the moment

can you tell me?

Do I end up?

Do I end up happy?

He Is We - Happily Ever After

* * *

"Cheese, ham or tuna?"

Harry scrunched up his nose, shaking his head at all three choices. He wanted to get off the tube, he really did, but the thought of those foods made his stomach turn. If it was up to his mind, he'd have been eating regular food for weeks now, but his stomach always rebelled at the mere thought of putting something in his mouth. Snape always looked at him with those narrowed eyes, and Harry found himself missing those first few days at the manor, and the threat of forcefeeding which at the time had left him almost frozen in fear. Now he couldn't so much as place a spoonful of porridge in his mouth without gagging, and he knew that only part of it was the physical reaction. He was scared. He just couldn't admit it to Snape though, that would be showing weakness, which he did not do under any circumstances.

The man sighed, tossing the menu back onto the wooden tray, and Harry found himself feeling guilty for not being able to simply pick up a sandwich and take a bite. It's not as if it was a new thing, he'd been doing it since he was two, and before the hospital he'd actually become a master at it. Dropping his eyes to the bed to avoid the man's gaze, he bit down hard on his lip. He really didn't want to make Snape angry with him, or his guardian would leave like everybody else had. Why couldn't he just eat like a normal person? Balling up his fists around the blanket, he took a deep breath, vowing to get of the tube. He had to, or Snape would just get even more frustrated, and he really didn't want to lose his professor.

.

His son was going to his first ever disco. Snape didn't know whether to feel excited, or nervous for his thirteen year old. Sure there would be chaparones, but he knew what teenagers could be like, though he didn't really know whether that extended to chemo kids. They were still people, but most of them barely had the energy to get out of bed, let alone do things normal teens would be doing. Still, anything could happen. It would be good for Harry, he had to keep reminding himself of that tiny piece of information, and the chance of his son catching an infection was almost non-existent, especially with all the other cancer children. But visions of the boy just last week surfaced in his mind, and no matter what he did, he just couldn't shake the haunting images. One child had caused such a gigantic effect, what would happen in a room full of them? If even one of them had picked up a tiny infection, then the probability of it spreading through all three wards was almost too much to think about. Harry would have a mask, that would at least serve as a barrier, but Snape really didn't think it would do much. Why couldn't he just lock his son in one of them clear balls they used to run on water with at St Anne's? That would definitely work. Sighing, he nodded at the nurse, folding the new suit onto the chair. Though it pained him to think about, this may well be not only Harry's first disco, but also his last. And that was something Snape would never take away from him.

.

The high-pitched squeal that came from Annessa's mouth startled Harry so much he dropped the rose he was holding onto to the bed. Snatching it back up before the girl saw, he flashed her a grin, ramming his hat onto his head. Snape was nowhere to be seen, though Harry was sure he'd be lurking around somewhere in the shadows. Looping an arm through her's, he stepped out of his germ free bubble, one of those pesky masks covering his mouth and nose. Annessa skipped along beside him, looking more happy and carefree than he'd ever seen her. They didn't need words, their friendship had been established from a one-sided conversation in the early days of Harry's infection. It was a good kind of silence, and anyway it only lasted until they reached the floor that was holding the disco. Music blasted from the sound system, and a guy that looked suspiciously like the cleaner was playing the part of the DJ. Annessa winked at him, dragging him over to a small group of people Harry had never seen before.

"This is a few fof the Elephant Ward guys! Marco, Jeb, Phoebe and Lyla! Guys meet Hary!"

Harry nodded politely, really out of his element. They seemed nice enough, but the sideways glances they directed his way gave him doubts. Surely Annessa wouldn't be friends with bullies? She was far to nice. Side-stepping the group, he caught Annessa giving them a warning look as she pulled him towards the makeshift dance floor. It was beginning to look like a great night, he just hoped nobody ruined it.

.

"Son or daughter?"

Snape snapped up his head, looking the intruder up and down. The guy looked familiar, probably from the parents room, but he couldn't stop himself from being guarded. "Son, AML M7, relapse." The man nodded as if he understood, though Snape himself still couldn't get to grips with the terminology. The whole idea of it scared him, and the man was the first person he'd said it to.

"I have a daughter with ALL, she's hopefully getting out of here soon."

Turning his attention back on the dancing, he tried to find his son among the mass of children. He couldn't have slipped away in the few seconds Snape had spent conversing, could he? Scanning the room from left to right, he caught sight of the neon blue hat Molly had knitted. Breathing out a sigh of relief, he furrowed his brows in confusion. What on earth were the two of them doing? He could see Harry leaning in close, the mask dangling from one ear, and the soft blush creeping up on Annessa's face. Their lips touched, and Snape felt his heart swell with a strange pride he had never felt before. His son had just experienced his first kiss, and though Snape knew he should berate the boy for taking off his only germ protection, he just couldn't scold the boy. Harry was finally being a teenager, and Snape would be a fool to stop that.

.

Annessa loved him, she actually loved him. Harry couldn't wipe the grin from his face as he changed back into his pyjamas, and he was sure Snape knew why. He hadn't even thought it was possible for someone to love him, let alone a girl. But she had admitted to it, and the thought made him giddy. Even Dudley didn't have a girlfriend. Just wait till he tells Ron! Where was his friend anyway? Harry hadn't seen him since the day before he caught that infection, surely he hadn't gotten it as well? Could Harry have given it to him when he visited? The thought made Harry's blood run cold, he didn't want his friend to have to go through what he did. Flopping down on the bed, he twirled the chemo tubes in his fingers, unable to calm himself enough to sleep. Snape was already softly snoring in the corning, bringing another grin to Harry's face. It wasn't often he felt like this, but Snape was making these moments happen more and more. It didn't matter to Harry that he might very well die, he had two people that cared about him, and that was all that mattered. He just hoped it would stay that way.

* * *

A/N: So what do you think? Any good?

Hit review and let me know your thoughts!

The next chapter will probably be up on friday!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur


	28. Chapter 28: Snape's Little Warrior

Disclaimer: I will never own the Harry Potter universe. Never!

A/N: I'm sorry this is so late, I got hooked on my Sims 3 game as I hadn't been on since last year, but I hope this will it up to you :)

Thank you to previouslyjade for reviewing a few of the previous chapters! :) To answer your question: Harry's parents didn't know exactly that they were going to die, but they wanted to cover all bases just in case because of the war, hence why they wrote all the letters. I did try to break the paragraphs into smaller chunks, but they might still be a little big, so sorry if they are!

I'd also like to thank any new people who Followed or Favourited, you guys are awesome!

Just in case anyone was wondering as I realised I had an earlier review asking about who was paying for Harry's treatment. Harry's treatment is covered by the NHS which is free for all British residents so nobody has to pay for the treatment, and as I've decided that Snape's manor is in Scotland, prescription medicines are free as well because Harry will be registered as living there now and all Scottish residents get free prescriptions!

* * *

You can be amazing

You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug

You can be the outcast

Or be the backlash of somebody's lack of love

Or you can start speaking up

Nothing's gonna hurt you the way that words do

When they settle 'neath your skin

Kept on the inside and no sunlight

Sometimes a shadow wins

But I wonder what would happen if you

Say what you wanna say

And let the words fall out

Honestly I wanna see you be brave

With what you want to say

And let the words fall out

Honestly I wanna see you be brave

Sara Bareilles - Brave

* * *

Annessa had visitors. Snape couldn't help the relief flooding through him as he saw the three people dressed up in matching outfits, each with an uneven tan from where they'd obviously been wearing sunglasses. They had to be her parents, the likeness was too striking for them not to be. But where exactly had they been for so long? Snape would never dream of leaving Harry for more than a day, or maybe two if the need arised, but over a week? He'd rather face the wrath of The Dark Lord than leave his son on his own in a hospital, what if something happened? It was so easy for immunocompromised patients to pick up an infection, Snape was all to familiar with that now.

If it was up to him both Harry and Annessa would be locked up in a germ free buble indefinitely, but Annessa's parents didn't seem to care that their daughter had lost at least two stone since Snape had met her, which was probably long after her family had swanned off. What if she'd caught a worse infection than Harry? What if she'd been too weak to fight? Shaking his head in anger as they thrust a brochure at her face, he caught a snippet of their conversation. They were leaving again.

If he didn't want to stay on the goodside of this hospital, and Annessa, he would definitely have punched them both at that moment. But while Annessa might have no problem with it, he knew her parents would, and the last thing Snape wanted was for Harry to be punished for something he did. He would just have to be a parent to both teens. It could be done, he'd been doing it for most of the time they'd been there, though not consciously. It was more of an instinct, and he shuddered at a thought that entered his mind. He was turning into Molly Weasley.

.

He didn't want to wake up, why couldn't the nurses understand that? To wake up would be to face the nausea, to face the pain that crossed his father's face whenever he couldn't do something that normal children did. His father. He liked the sound of that, it sounded much better than guardian. He hadn't had a father in so long. Every other teenager he'd met had someone to call their own, even Neville had his gran, but Harry hadn't had anyone in the longest time. Snape filled in the cracks that his own parents had left, and he'd so far stuck by Harry which was more than most adults in his life. Scrunching up his eyes against the harsh light that seemed to infiltrate his eyelids even when they were firmly shut, he let out a soft groan, swatting at the arms that attempted to grab the Hickman. He didn't want anymore chemo, he wanted to go back to the manor, preferably with Annessa, and never see another bag of the chemicals in his life.

"Will you lay still for five minutes?! I would like for once to get a sample of blood without you trying to tear my arms off!"

He could hear Snape chuckle from just inside the room, and he cracked open one eye to see his professor, grateful to have a familiar face. "Tell the vampire to leave me alone!" It came out as more of a whine, and he would have cringed if it hadn't have felt like his head was full of cotton wool. Bile rose in his mouth as the next bag was attached, and the damn vampire lady stole another vial of his precious blood, why couldn't he keep it? He'd lost enough of it already.

"Vampire? Really Harry? You and I both know that real vampires don't work in hospitals."

A small smile danced across his lips as he thought of a film Dudley had once watched when over half of the channels had gone down. "That guy from Twilight does." He could hear Snape's hand hit against the man's forehead, and though he'd have loved to see the reaction, he was currently preoccupied with sticking his head in a bowl. Stupid side effects. Couldn't they find an anti-nausea drug that actually worked? Surely they hadn't exhausted all of the options? Annessa was lucky, hers worked almost to well. In fact, Harry had only seen her physically sick twice, though the first time may have been because of the car crash guy that had been wheeled into the ER when they were exploring.

He wasn't allowed to explore anymore, not even with the mask on, because apparently it was too dangerous. It made Harry laugh that they were going on about how he or Annessa could have an accident, or start bleeding heavily. It's not like there wouldn't be a doctor to help them or anything. Leaning back against his pillow, he wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, grimacing at the foul taste. Why did puke have to taste so bad? Why couldn't it taste like cherry? Or maybe icecream? Flicking his eyes up at the bag of killer chemicals, he chewed at his lip. Surely he could have those at home? So why where they insisting he stayed?

.

Molly Weasley had never gone back on a punishment she felt was deserved, never. But Ron had barely left his room in days, and her heart broke a little more each day as she heard his quiet sobbing from her station outside his door. The poor guy blamed himself, and while it was partly his fault, other factors contributed just as much. If it was any ordinary person, they would have probably just escaped with a sniffle. But Harry was different, and Molly was still kicking herself for not explaining properly why Ron couldn't be even the slightest bit ill when visiting. She should have screened him, made sure he was telling the truth. He wasn't sick now, she'd been screening him all morning just to make sure, and he was the picture of health.

Snape had suggested she bring Ron along for a few hours, apparently Harry was getting into all sorts of mischief with a friend of his, and Snape thought it would be good for the boy to see his bestfriend before he started bouncing off the walls. Containing a teenager was never easy. Pulling her coat further round her body, she took a deep breath, was it really that scary talking to her son? "Ron? Ronald you need to get up." Creaking open the door, she scanned the room, her eyes fixing on the empty bed. He was there two hours ago, and she hadn't seen him leave. "Ronald? Where are you?!" Turning on her heels, she fled down the stairs, almost colliding with her third oldest child. "Percy round up the others! Ron's ran away!"

.

"Da- Snape?" Harry corrected himself before the man noticed, silently praying he wouldn't be called out on his mistake. His professor looked up from the book he was reading, and Harry took it as permission to continue. "I erm, well I just wanted to, erm well you know." Growling in frustration as the words failed to form, he gritted his teeth. "I'm sorry!" It came out louder than he meant it to, and Snape's eyes widened at the outburst.

"Whatever for?"

The man sounded unsure, eyeing Harry warily. "For what I said at the other hospital, about never wanting to see you again, I couldn't just leave it like that, I wanted to-" Snape smiled, abandoning his chair and dropping down on the bed. Harry swallowed his uneasiness, fiddling with the hem of his pyjama top. He didn't want the man to tell him that he would never be forgiven, or that it would better if McGonagall looked after him.

"It's okay Harry, I'm not holding it against you. Besides I'm to blame for what happened, I shouldn't have broken your trust like that, but I promise I won't ever leave you, not even when you scream at me. Just remember Harry, you're the bravest person I know, and nothing will change my mind." Snape sighed, bringing his eyes level with Harry's. "Nobody can take you away from me, not McGonagall, or Dumbledore, or god forbid the Dursley's. I will do everything in my power to fight for you, but I can only fight for so much of this journey, the rest falls onto you. And I know you can beat this my little warrior, I know you can win."

Flinging his arms around the potions master, Harry let himself soak up the warmth generated by the man. Snape was always so full of surprises. Whenever you thought you'd got him all figured out, another softer side emerged. Why did his father hide it from the rest of the world? Resting his head against his professor's shoulder, he felt his eyes close. Maybe he did have a chance of beating it? Snape certainly seemed to think so, and he would never let Snape down again.

* * *

A/N: Another chapter done and dusted! I actually don't know how many chapters this is gonna be, though expect at least over fifty ;)

Leave a review with your thoughts! I aim to please so if anything isn't quite right I'd love to set it straight!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	29. Chapter 29: The Real Harry

Disclaimer: Nope, Harry Potter isn't and never will be my creation.

A/N: I'm so sorry I haven't updated in days! I got sidetracked with revision!

Thank you to ukrainianelfhorse for reviewing! I'm gonna explain more about Ron in a later chapter ;) You'll just have to be patient :)

Also thank you to any new people that Followed or Favourited!

I hope you enjoy!

* * *

I love the way that you don't care

You just move along as if there's

Nothin' to be scared of

And I love the way you flip your hair

Like nothin's wrong, to be so confident

Well damn that just ain't fair no

I just love the way that you don't know

What's goin' through my brain

The way you're makin' me insane

And I just idolise

The way that you carry yourself

There is no surprise

I'm tearin out my heart again

It's on my sleeve

And I love the look in your eyes

When you talk to me

Baby

You make me

Just wanna believe

Katy McAllister - Wanna Believe

* * *

The hooded figure, shrouded in darkness, crept along the silent street, his eyes sweeping along for any sign of life. The task was simple, destroy the target. Which would have been easy if he had any idea where the person was, or if they even still looked like their photograph. London was a big place, and though he had a general idea, his boss wasn't too forthcoming with the clues. For all he knew, he could be on the opposite side of London, if the target was even still there. The boss had said it would be fine as long as he could find his way around the city, but there's a reason he was kicked out of the Scouts.

Pushing back his sweat soaked hair, he glanced down at the map held inches from his nose, letting out an inaudible groan. Why couldn't the damn target have a giant sign with an arrow pointing directly at them? It would make his life so much easier. Keeping to the shadows, he pushed on through the maze of alleyways, wondering how he'd managed to get caught up in all of this. He never wanted to become what he was now, always promised himself he'd never become a clone of his father. But circumstances change, people change, and there he was, doing another man's dirty work. At least it payed well. Hitting a solid wall, he tilted his head upwards, blinking at the faraway face of what appeared to be the target. Well that was easy.

.

Molly Weasley just couldn't stand the silence that creeped into the house in the absence of he youngest son, it seemed unnatural. Sure it was like that when all of the children were at school, but the Summer was a time for laughter and noise, not quietness and tearful whispers. Even the twins had stopped their usual commotion, and she was finding it all a little overwhelming. Why would Ronald run anyway? She couldn't wrap her head around it, no matter how hard she tried. Snape was keeping a look out around London, and Percy had taken to scouring the land around the house, but it just didn't seem enough. Was it her? Had she done something? Or did Harry and Ron make a pact back at Hogwarts? It seemed slightly suspicious that Ron was doing exactly what Harry had done before the holidays.

He hadn't taken much in the way of possessions, and she didn't quite know whether that calmed her nerves slightly, or just made it worse. It could mean he didn't plan on staying out long, but it could also mean it was split second decision, one that didn't receive any forethought or careful planning. That was what worried her the most. An angry underaged wizard out on his own definitely spelled trouble, especially if said wizard bumped into some taunting muggles. Shoulders slumped, she watched as Percy returned Ron-less, her heart growing in weight as the minutes ticked by. She loved her son more than life itself. So why couldn't he see that?

.

Harry James Potter. That's what the band around his wrist said, and the clipboard at the foot of his bed, and even the whiteboard by the door. Harry James Potter. That was his name, so why did he despise it so much now? Harry didn't want to be a Potter anymore, and he'd never wanted to be a Dursley so that was out of the question. No. Harry James Potter didn't want to be Potter, he wanted to be Snape. He had his birth father's first name, and his mother's protection, he wanted something of his father's, something he could say with pride. Potter was the Boy-Who-Lived, the saviour of the wizarding world, the one everybody was depending on. Everyone who ever saw him instantly slapped that stereotype onto him, and he hated it.

Very few people wanted to know Harry for, well just Harry. The boy that at the age of eleven made his very first friend, that found out the joys of flying by defending someone weaker than himself. The boy that very nearly cried when he met his godfather for the first time in since his parents died, and the boy that was petrified of the shadows that lurked in the dark. That was the real Harry, the one that very few took the time to get to know. Ron and Hermione had come the closest in his three years at Hogwarts to knowing the real Harry, to chipping at his walls with a pickaxe . But Snape? Snape had gone even further. Snape had taken a bulldozer to Harry's walls, and try as he might, Harry couldn't bring himself to fight. The fact that the man had even taken the time to listen, to get to know him, was all that Harry needed. So if anyone asked, then no, he wasn't Harry Potter. He was Harry Snape. And nobody was going to take that away.

.

He needed coffee. There was only so many hours you could sit with an overweight woman screaming down the phone in a shrill voice before it just became too much. The too much line for Snape had happened ten minutes ago. But Harry was in his therapy group, after much convincing from Annessa, so he would just have to stick it out for another few minutes, if he could last that long. He was beginning to understand why the nurses stayed well clear of this particular room, and that particular parent. From all he had heard, her son, or possibly daughter, was called Odyssey, and it had an autoimmune disease so had it's own bubble on Robin Ward. At that moment in time he wished Odyssey was on a ward as far away from Fox and Robin as possible, and he was sure he wasn't the only one. Mobile Phones should be banned from hospitals, or at least communal rooms.

He honestly didn't care about Odyssey's strange cold that wasn't going away, or that it's cat had puked up a whole carrot. All he cared about was Harry and Annessa, his two adopted children. Oh God, he really was turning into Molly! He felt bad for her, with Ron missing, he had after all felt what she was going through when Harry had disappeared for those few minutes in the shopping centre. Rolling his eyes as she got into an apparent argument about cheese, he fled to the corridor, exchanging a knowing grin with another father. It looked like everyone was avoiding the damn woman. Glancing around the nurses station as they dispersed to do their rounds on the sicker patients, he furrowed his brow. Where the hell was the coffee hidden?

.

Group therapy was the worst idea in the history of ideas. Harry didn't want to talk about his feelings to a bunch of strangers, one of which was payed to listen to him. He guaranteed that if the therapist wasn't payed, she wouldn't care about how any of them were feeling. Anyway, right then the only feeling he had was boredom. Intense boredom. Harry was bored, Annessa had to go to the bathroom, Jaxyn was tired, and Marley just wanted to eat. So basically no one had said anything of interest to the actual topic.

"Is there anything you'd like to share with the group Harry? Anything at all? What about you Annessa? Any positive or negative things in your life?"

Harry could see the gears turning in her head, and the clear look of regret pass over the therapist's face. It was moments like this that he loved having Annessa around, the way she could be so confident, so carefree.

"You know what, there is something I'd like to say." She stood from her chair, her wig flipping over her shoulder as she moved. "If I wanted to share my feelings with anyone, the last person it would be was you! Quite frankly it's a waste of money to keep you around, and I'd much rather drink the chemo than actually speak with you! And as for negative things? I might die at any given moment, so I'd rather not spend my time speaking to you!"

She stalked out of the room with so much composure that Harry couldn't help but feel impressed. He followed her into the corridor, attempting to reign in the giggles as she caught his eye. There was definitely never a dull moment with Annessa around, and he loved her for it. She was the best thing that had happened to him since Snape. And his family finally felt complete.

* * *

A/N: Good? Bad? Hit review and let me know!

The next one will be put up on Friday as I have a NAB (Assessment) on Thursday, and then cadets!

Seeya next time, nicholosaur :)


	30. Chapter 30: Looking For Ron

Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry Potter! I do have a new haircut though!

A/N: Sorry for the delay! But it's better late than never ;) I got really caught up on watching films and playing Sims 2!

Thank you to the new people that Favourited and Followed! :)

* * *

Will you listen to my story?

It'll just be a minute

How can I explain?

What ever happened here

Never meant to hurt you

How could I cause you so much pain?

When I say I'm sorry

Will you believe me?

Listen to my story

Say you wont leave me

When I say I'm sorry

Can you forgive me?

When I say I'll always be there

Will you believe

Will you in believe me?

Daughtry - Sorry

* * *

It was raining. The small redheaded figure dashed across the carpark, pulling his jacket further across his chest. Why was it raining? It was supposed to be summer! There was meant sun in summer, that's what made it distinguishable from the other seasons. Not rain and wind, that was more spring, or autumn. The icy droplets pelted his hunched frame, and he once again cursed the pathetic excuse of summer weather. Why couldn't they live in the Caribbean? Coughing into his sleeve as the steady stream grew harder, he peered through the gloom, trying to find his bearings. He should've just stayed at home and taken the hate from his family like the coward he was, at least it was warm there. But it was warm at the hospital as well, at least it was last time he was there, and Harry was there. That's all he wanted, to see Harry and apologise for almost killing him. Not that it would be easy. He couldn't exactly walk in and say "Sorry I almost killed you mate, but would you like a chocolate frog?" Shaking his head at the mere thought, he blew on his hands in an attempt to warm them. He had to find his way to the hospital. He had to make it right.

.

"I hate my parents!"

Harry looked up from his gameboy, watching as Annessa tossed a scrumpled up letter into the bin. He could relate, to a certain extent anyway, he felt exactly the same way about the Dursley's. He wouldn't tell her that though. There are some things you just have to keep to yourself. At least they appeared to love her, though Harry knew all to well how a person can put on an act to fool everyone around them.

"You're lucky you've got Snape, my parents bogged off to Hawaii with my sister, not that I mind, I just wished they'd have left Cayda with me."

Cayda. Harry had heard so many stories about the eight year old, each told with so much love, with so much compassion, that it put Annessa into a whole new light. She didn't care about her parents all that much, but the thought of losing her sister was almost too much for the fourteen year old to bear. "We can share Snape if you like, I'm sure he won't mind." A chuckle came from the door before Harry could get a reply, his father's hair plastered against his forehead from the torrential weather outside.

"I'd be happy to become your honorary parent for your time in the hospital, just as long as you behave."

Harry grinned at the man, winking at Annessa. This was why he loved Snape so much, he knew just how to cheer people up.

.

Caffeine shot through Snape's system as he down the rest of the cup, expertly wrapping Harry's present with one hand. His son was turning fourteen! It didn't seem like five minutes ago that he was holding the tiny bundle in his arms for the first, and last, time. Now the boy was entering his fourth year at Hogwarts, and Snape cringed at all the hatred he'd pushed towards the child during every other school year. This year would be different. This year he'd make it right. There would be no sneering, or snide jabs. From him or his Slytherins. He wouldn't let his child go through anymore unnecessary pain, at the hands of him or anyone else. Weasley and Granger would look after Harry, as would the rest of the Lions. But Snape knew from experience just how cruel teenagers could be, and even the whole of Gryffindor wouldn't be able to watch him 24/7.

Not to mention how susceptible the boy had become to any kind of germ. The hospital was like a second home now, and that wouldn't change any time soon. They'd still have to travel back to the hospital whenever Harry had chemo, expect for if the unlikely event of St. Mungo's finally sorting out their priorities and sending a trained Mediwitch or wizard. Not that Snape thought it would happen anytime soon. Until then though he still had to plan a birthday party, and find one particularly stubborn redhead before Harry caught whiff of something suspicious. He didn't really want to tell his son about Ron, not with everything that was going on. The child needed to focus on getting better, and knowing Harry, he would want to go out searching, raining or not. If worst came to worst at least Annessa would still be at the party, and hopefully Hermione. Nothing could go wrong with Annessa around. She'd taken Harry under her wing for better or worse now, and no doubt she'd make his birthday the most memorable one he'd ever had. At least Snape hoped so, it could end up being his last one after all.

.

Harry wasn't supposed to leave his room, not without his dad or a nurse anyway. But he was bored. Bored of hospital rooms, and rerun cartoons, and chemicals running through his bloodstream. Annessa was somewhere in the hospital, having a needle jabbed into her bonemarrow, Harry didn't envy her at that moment in time. He'd have stayed in his room if there was just something, anything he could that didn't involve staring at a screen. He despised sitting there, day after day, barely leaving the damn safety bubble. Anyway, it wasn't like he didn't have his mask, and he'd just steer clear of A&amp;E so there was a minuscule chance of him getting another infection. Creeping along the corridor, he paused at the parents room door, his ears perking up at the sound of Mrs Weasley. What was she doing there?

"I'm sorry Molly, but Ron's not in the centre of London, I looked practically all day."

Ron was missing? Harry's heart sped up at the thought, why would his friend disappear? Had he been taken? Blinking back tears of betrayal at not being informed, he slid into an empty lift, slamming his fist against the ground-floor button. It didn't matter to him that he wasn't allowed outside, or that he didn't have a jacket, or even that his shoes were still in his room. His bestmate was missing, and he was going to find him. Harry knew how harsh the weather could be if you had nowhere to go, and the thought of Ron being out there all alone just didn't settle well with him. If he even was alone.

What if someone had taken him? Shuddering at the images that flashed in his mind, he pulled the hat further down his head, keeping his eyes level with the ground as he made his way out of the building. Luckily nobody noticed, and he took off at a sprint out into the bone-chilling rain, with no real destination planned. If he were Ron where would he go? There was so many places Harry could think of, and for all he knew the redhead might not even be in London. Rubbing at his chest as his breathing came out in short, painful gasps, he ignored the pain radiating from his feet. So what if he got a bit cut up? Ron was much more important.

.

Where was the target? The man scanned the clearly empty room, his eyebrows scrunched in confusion. It was definitely the target's room, but there appeared to be no sign of life. Growling in frustration, the man shook his head angrily, turning and almost bumping into a hooked nosed, greasy git. The person, whoever it was, looked like they hadn't slept in days, but he had a smile on his face, up until he reached the room that was. The man tilted his head to one side, watching as the greaseball's expression turned to confusion. So the target was not alone? Sighing to himself, he made his way back to the lifts. His boss didn't need to know about the stranger. He'd just have to make sure if it went sour it all tied back to the boss. It was the least he could do.

* * *

A/N: So what do you guys think? Good? Bad? It was my birthday on the 22nd January so you guys should review as a late birthday present ;) I'd love to hear your views!

I'm on study leave from Wednesday next week, up until the friday the week after so I'll have ample time to write :)

The next one should be up tomorrow!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	31. Chapter 31: A Birthday In The Rain

Disclaimer: I'm gonna right one of these on every single chapter! I still do not own the Harry Potter universe!

Thank you to the two guests (I'm unsure if it's the same person) for reviewing! I'm glad to see you're enjoying the story so far!

Also thank you to the new people that have Followed and Favourited this story! Your support is greatly appreciated! :)

I can guarantee practically everyone can guess who the stalker's boss is ;)

* * *

Stop and stare

I think I'm moving but I go nowhere

Yeah, I know that everyone gets scared

But I've become what I can't be, oh

Stop and stare

You start to wonder why you're here not there

And you'd give anything to get what's fair

But fair ain't what you really need

Oh, can you see what I see?

They're trying to come back, all my senses push

Untie the weight bags, I never thought I could...

Steady feet, don't fail me now

I'mma run 'til you can't walk

Something pulls my focus out

And I'm standing down...

One Republic - Stop and Stare

* * *

It was his birthday, and if Harry had been at the Dursley's, he'd have been counting down the minutes, ready to wish himself a happy birthday. But he wasn't at the Dursley's. He wasn't even at the hospital anymore. So though he was a year older, he didn't know it, and he probably wouldn't have cared anyway. Ron was all that mattered. His readheaded bestmate that didn't care if he was famous or not, the one that stuck by him when he even doubted himself. Limping through the rain, he futilely wiped at his glasses, smearing the water even further. Ron had to be out there, he just had to be. Harry couldn't just leave him to freeze, not after he himself had experienced how harsh living outside could be. And Harry had done it countless times through winter at the Dursley's. But Ron was different. To Ron that wasn't normal, none of this was, and Harry knew it would only be a matter of time before his mate succumbed to the elements.

Blood dripped from his feet, but he barely felt it, that was nothing compared to what he'd experienced in the past. So what if he got an infection? It might be able to kill him faster than the damn disease. That would definitely be a plus at the moment. At least he sort of knew his way around London, having visited there often when he was younger. That was what scared him most of all, the knowledge that some of Vernon's friends may be lurking nearby. Would they recognise him now? He hoped not, but there was no guarantee of it. He'd just have to keep his wits about him. And find Ron before someone else did. He wouldn't let his friend go through what he had to. He wouldn't let his friend feel the pain. He wouldn't let his friend die inside.

.

Gone. Snape held his head in his hands, wiping away a stray tear with his thumb. Gone. His son was gone. The security cameras caught him leaving, but for all Snape knew, he could've been picked up by anyone. Molly rested a hand on his shoulder, shaking her head at the approaching professors. Snape couldn't bring himself to even look at the new figures, his eyes glued to his shoes as he blinked back fresh tears. Why would Harry just leave?

"Mr Snape? I'm PC Johnson, and this is PC Ray, we'd like to ask you a few questions."

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he raised his head slightly, his eyes straying to the headmaster. He'd never seen Dumbledore look so worn, had the old man finally begun to see Harry as more than just an object? Pushing a strand of hair behind his ear, Snape cleared his throat, nodding at the two constables. He didn't trust himself to speak just yet, for fear of dissolving into tears. His son seemed to do more disappearing acts than a magician!

"Has there been any kind of upset in Mr Potter's life?"

Upset? There had been a lot of upset, but none that had happened recently. Unless... no he couldn't know about Ron, could he? The boy was certainly moving with a purpose on the video footage, was it possible that he had somehow caught wind of his friends predicament? "A friend of his ran away a couple days ago, but I didn't think he knew about it." Johnson jotted something down in his notebook, and Snape had to restrain himself from snatching it from the man's hands and reading everything that was being written about him. Was the man blaming him? Or wondering why he wasn't out there searching? He couldn't stand not knowing. It was almost as bad as when Harry was on the ventilator, except at least then the boy was in front of him. Now he didn't know where his son was, and in all honesty, it terrified him.

.

Why did all of London have to look the same? All Ron wanted to do was find the hospital Harry was at, and get out of the damn rain, was that so much to ask? At that moment in time it felt like all of his muscles were simultaneously on fire, and he hated it. Never had he been out for such a long time, and he knew his mum would have a fit when he got home, if he got home. It wasn't looking very likely, especially with the never-ending rows of houses that all looked exactly identical. Ron would love to punch the architect right in the family-jewels! This was the exact reason his parents never let him wander from Diagon Alley no matter how many times he pestered, it would have led to his inevitable loss of general direction. For all he knew, he could be heading towards Dover, which wouldn't help at all because he was almost certain Harry wasn't in France, so a ferry would be no use whatsoever.

He wasn't even allowed to use magic, which sucked worse than ever. Surely there was a spell to give him directions? But the Ministry just had to make things difficult by placing an age restriction on magic, this was why Ron had a problem with authority figures. Kicking a stone towards the curb, he surveyed the many cracks on the pavement. It wasn't right, for him to be here, walking around an unfamiliar place, breathing in the fresh air while his bestfriend lay in that hospital bed, unable to move, or do anything but have air pushed into his lungs. All Ron's fault! He reminded himself of that whenever he felt even a tiny glimmer of happiness or hope out there on his journey. It was all his fault. He'd gotten himself into the situation through lying and completely disregarding the rules. So it was only fair for him to fix it. And fix it he would. Even if he didn't live to see the results.

.

The target couldn't have gotten far. London wasn't that big of a city, and the person couldn't have gotten much of a headstart. All he had to do was take the most likely route, which he guessed was the one with the odd bloodstains, barely visible due to the rain. It could be a nice clean job, as far from the hospital, and thus witnesses, as possible. But where was the target going in the first place? The confused stranger didn't seem to know anymore than he did, which meant the target hadn't told anyone. That didn't sit well with him, for all he knew he could be walking into a trap. But he had to do it. And besides, nobody ever beat him! Ever! Spotting the target, he slowed his pace, slipping his head over his head. Crouching beside an old rusted postbox, he watched with bated breath. It was now or never, and he could always take out the other guy as well, it's not like anybody would really miss a couple of wayward teens. Right?

.

Even in the first light of the day, the city looked as miserable as it had when Harry was small. He knew the neighbourhood he was currently standing in, and he hoped more than anything that the man that still haunted his dreams was long gone. The mask clung to his face, soggy and cold, restricting his breathing. He longed to just rip it off and suck in the fresh air, but that would be just like asking for an infection, and though he didn't mind one on his feet, another one in his lungs was not something he wanted to experience anytime soon. Ron couldn't be in the city-centre, chances are Snape would have seen him, so that only left the surrounding neighbourhoods.

Dropping onto a nearby bench, he gasped for air, his lungs working on overdrive to supply enough oxygen to keep his body going. He wouldn't die here, not in this rundown nightmare. Struggling back to his bruised and scratched feet, he stumbled back off down the road, blinking against his drooping eyelids. At least it had stopped raining. Shaking his head to stop the dizziness that spun his world, he caught sight of a redheaded figure walking on the opposite side of the road. Ron!

* * *

A/N: Did you guys like it? Let me know in the reviews! :)

I have my Biology Prelim (Mock exam for those who don't live in Scotland) on Thursday and my Environmental Science one on Friday, so I'll most likely be revising Tuesday and Wednesday! But I may be able to take a break for a few hours and type up another chapter, though I'm not promising anything!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	32. Chapter 32: The Love Of A Family

Disclaimer: No matter what I do, I will never own the Harry Potter universe!

Thank you to krr84 and the two guests for reviewing the story! Your support is gratefully accepted! :)

Also thank you to those that have Followed and Favourited! :)

* * *

Friends are quiet angels

Who lift us to our feet

When our wings have trouble remembering how to fly

They stand by us and give us

The strength to try

Friends are quiet angels

Who somehow make you see

The light that's in the darkness

Before the dawn

All at once the journey's not so long

But it's the laughter and the fun

Sometimes the feeling that we're one

All the tears we cry together you and I

That will keep us heart to heart

As time goes by

Gloria Sklerov &amp; Barbara Rothstein - Friends Are Quiet Angels

* * *

Ron squinted over at the approaching figure, his heart in his throat. Would they try to hurt him? It wasn't until he noticed the signature hat, well that and the soggy mask, that he realised who it was. Surely he was delusional. It couldn't be Harry. Harry was in the hospital, fighting for his life. It had to be Ron's eyes, or his brain's way of telling him that he'd been out in the cold for too long and was slowly on his way to hypothermia. "Harry?" The figure stopped and nodded, and that was all Ron needed to run full pelt and tackle his bestfriend. "I'm so sorry Harry, I never meant to make you sick! I swear I just wasn't thinking! It's all my fault!" He paused, prodding the boy with his forefinger. "Unless we're both dead? Oh God I killed you! I'm a murderer!" Falling to his knees, he clung to Harry's legs, sobbing into the boy's jeans. He had killed Harry Potter. He had failed as a friend.

.

Did Ron know something he didn't? Harry definitely didn't feel dead, and anyway, wouldn't he be pain free if he was dead? His feet still stung, and his chest still burned, so he obviously couldn't be dead. What was Ron going on about? His bestfriend had caused the infection? Harry almost laughed, it was always Ron that got them into trouble. "Ron would you relax? We're not dead! Though you might want your head examined when we get back to the hospital!" Seeing the redhead look up tearfully, he continued. "I don't blame you, and I never will! You've always been there for me, no matter what happened, and you're still here now! I don't know what I'd do without you!"

Ron wiped his nose on the edge of his sodden sleeve, giving Harry a hopeful smile. "You really mean that? I always thought- you've lost your shoes mate."

Harry broke down into giggles, wiping away a few of his own tears. "Really? I hadn't noticed! No wonder my feet are so cold." Slinging an arm around his bestmate, he flicked his eyes from left to right. "Now how do we get back?"

.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Whatever happens don't forget to breathe. The man peered round the side of the Postbox, the weapon held unsteadily in his hands. Two shots, that's all it would take, just two well aimed shots. The kids wouldn't need to suffer, instant death was what he was aiming for, that way he couldn't fail the job. The weapon was stolen, so nothing traced back to him, and he'd have enough money to get out of the whole business, to make something of his life. He just needed to keep calm. Adjusting his position, he forced out another gust of air, trying to compose himself. Just two shots, and he'd be free of that part of his life.

He could do it! It was just like he'd practiced in the range. One to the head, preferably the temple, or the heart if it their chests were more exposed. It was now or never. Closing his eyes for a minute, he heard the roar of a motor, coming closer and closer. Who the hell drives around at this hour? Cracking open just one eye, he inwardly cursed, stuffing the weapon back into his bag. The police always ruined everything! He'd just have to get the target when nobody was around, and to do that he'd need a sick child. Luckily he knew just where to get one.

.

"Harry!" Snape swept his son up into his arms, leaving the police officers to their note-taking. He didn't care what they thought anymore, he had his son back and that was all that mattered. Ron stood nearby, and Snape couldn't help but reach out and hug the redhead as well, just to show him all was forgiven. Molly's cry of delight echoed through the hallway, and Snape smiled into the top of Harry's head as she covered her child in countless kisses. At least Snape wasn't that bad. "I'm sorry we didn't tell you buddy, I was just so focused on getting you better!" Turning to the officers that had brought them back, he reached out a grateful hand. "Thank you for finding them, I don't know what I'd do without my son." Tears slid down his cheeks, and Harry, still held protectively under one arm, gently wiped them away.

"It's okay dad, it's not your fault."

Dad! Snape would never tire of hearing that word being directed at him. Never did he envision himself as becoming a father, but Harry was all that mattered now. Nothing would keep him from his little trouble maker now. "Let's go get you into dry clothes! And I'd like to remind you that shoes were invented for a reason!" Hearing his son sigh dramatically, he let out a small chuckle. "Oh and Harry? If you ever do something like that again, I'm tying you to your bed!"

.

"Happy Birthday to you! You live in a zoo! You look like a monkey! And you smell like one too!"

Annessa jumped onto the bed, her off-key, highpitched singing sending both boys into hysterics. Harry loved having all three of his bestfriends in one place, even if Hermione tutted disapprovingly at Harry's bandaged feet, or Annessa's wild, uncaring nature. They even had cake, something Harry never had at the Dursley's, and though his body still wasn't up to eating anything without regurgitating, he had to try, for his father's sake. The man had gone through so much trouble to make everything special, and though none of his friends batted an eye at the less than spectacular decorations strung up around the room, Harry thought it looked beautiful.

Ron always told him of birthday parties held at his house, with two cakes to feed his family and gifts from everyone, even if some of them were homemade. The way the redhead described it, so casual and with a hint of embarrassment, made Harry's heart clench. That sort of thing was what he had wished for every year, when he would curl up in that cupboard, sporting another designer bruise as a substitute for gifts. If he was lucky he'd get a sock, crusted with age, and as he got older, he found himself waiting for the grimy thing with actual excitement. The sock at least meant they had acknowledged he was a year older. He didn't expect a present from Snape, the man did enough for him already, and besides, the man had bought him everything he could possibly think of asking for.

"Make a wish Harry!"

Closing his eyes, he blew out the fourteen candles, his mind racing. There was so many things he could wish for. His parents to still be alive. To be back in his own bed, out of the hospital. To be cancer free. He wouldn't wish for any of those things though, because believe it or not, he knew someone who he thought needed it a lot more than he did. He had a father now, and he'd be home soon enough. But Annessa? Her family where soaking up the sun in Hawaii while she sat in a hospital room, with nobody but the staff, and more recently Harry and Snape. So though he may have wanted all those things, he at least had the support of his makeshift family, something Annessa didn't have. Reopening his eyes, he sent her a smile, waving away the smoke in front of him. What he wished for, more than anything, was that Annessa would finally be happy. He didn't really need a birthday wish. But Annessa sure as hell did, and he wouldn't rest until it was fulfilled.

* * *

A/N: What do you guys think? Hit review and let me know! :)

The next one will hopefully be up by Monday after my English Prelim!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	33. Chapter 33: The Truth Hurts

Disclaimer: Nope, Harry Potter still does not belong to me!

Thank you to Kendra Dhyanna and Dr. Dictator of Britannia for reviewing, it was greatly appreciated :)

Once again thank you to the new people who Followed and Favourited this story! Welcome aboard the journey! :)

* * *

When I look into your eyes

It's like watching the night sky

Or a beautiful sunrise

Well, there's so much they hold

And just like them old stars

I see that you've come so far

To be right where you are

How old is your soul?

Well, I won't give up on us

Even if the skies get rough

I'm giving you all my love

I'm still looking up

Jason Mraz - I Won't Give Up

* * *

Harry rubbed at his eyes, glancing over at his father snoring away on the campbed. The man hadn't left him alone since last night, and though Harry had been tolerant enough to begin with, he put his foot down, not an easy thing to do with thick bandages, when the man attempted to follow him to the bathroom. The remains of the birthday decorations hung limply from the wall, making the room seem almost depressing in the semi-darkness. Ron and Hermione had both gone home, and Annessa was on her own ward, the ward Harry would soon be moved too if all was well.

Of course that meant being near the people from the party, the one's that didn't seem to like him all that much. Hopefully he wouldn't need to be moved though, they were optimistic that he would be home as soon as the chemo was finished, as long as the tests came back negative. They'd be performing them soon, and then if all was good, freedom would follow. Harry actually couldn't wait to get back into his normal routine of exploring every single nook and cranny of Snape's manor. Of course he'd be back to visit Annessa, he couldn't just leave her all alone in the hospital without even her family for comfort. Snape would want to visit anyway, and then he'd be back for the next phase of the chemo, before they released him into the world cured.

"Odyssey give it back!"

Who was this Odyssey kid? Harry had heard so much about them, but he had yet to set eyes on the person. All he knew was they had a brother, and an overbearing mother. At least according to Snape they did. Rolling his eyes at the loudness of the two children, he flopped back down onto his pillows. Getting up could wait. He was much to comfortable to move.

.

Snape heard her before she appeared, and even then she didn't stop as she normally did. He could see Harry's face fall as she stormed past, her feet stamping against the floor with unnecessary force. "Annessa? Annessa wait!" He hurried after her, gripping at her arm to stop her from leaving. "Annessa talk to me! Did we do something?"

Her eyes turned to Snape, before straying to Harry peering round the corner. "No I just..." Her shoulders slumped as she ran a hand through the wig, closing her eyes against the world. "It's my parents, and the treatment, and just everything."

Snape nodded comfortingly, patting her on the shoulder, exchanging a look with Harry. "We're here if you need anything, remember that, okay?" Earning a nod in response, he turned back to his son, leaving the girl to her own devices. It was hard on her, having no real family at her side, something he knew Harry was all too familiar with. "You want some cake? We've still got plenty left." Seeing the grimace pass over Harry's face, he let out a low chuckle. This was why he woke up in the morning.

.

The girl coughed again, shivering despite the intense heat that was pumped from the heater in the van. She was almost too perfect, and the man couldn't suppress he grin that morphed his features. His plan was working out nicely. All he had to do was get the kid admitted on the ward of, or next to, the target and he'd be all set to finish the job. The girl was disposable, and after the job was complete, she could be dumped at some childrens home and forgotten about.

All he had to do was remember four simple things. Her name. Her date of birth. Her illness. And of course his cover name. Pulling into the carpark, he transferred her from the seat into his arms, shifting uncomfortably at the warmth of her body. At least nobody would be able to link her to him. Approaching the doors, he took a deep breath, composing himself. It would work. It had to. "Help! Please help my daughter! I don't know what happened!" Nurses swarmed around them, and he jogged to keep up with the fast pace. Things were running smoothly now. They didn't call him the best for nothing.

.

A bed trundled past the room, the child unrecognisable underneath the mass of wires and bandages. Harry watched as she disappeared through the doors and into Robin Ward, a man a few years younger than Snape running after her. Very few patients got rushed straight up to the isolation rooms, in fact Odyssey had been the only one taken directly onto Robin in the last few weeks apart from the new girl. Turning away from the window, he pulled the blinds closed, his eyes straying to the empty chair. Snape had gone to get some more clothes from the manor, and Harry knew he wouldn't be back for at least a few more hours.

Normally he wouldn't have thought twice before taking off on another exploration trip, but Annessa had been avoiding him all morning, and it just didn't have the same appeal as it normally did. Had he done something wrong? He tried to wrack his brain for anything that could have happened last night. They'd had cake, said goodbye to Ron and Hermione, puked up said cake from chemo side effects, said goodnight, was there something he was forgetting? What had happened between then and now? Sighing, he pushed his glasses further up his nose, dropping back onto the bed. It wasn't fair! This was why he didn't try to make friends with anyone! They all left in the end! And he was a fool to believe she would be any different.

.

Just a few more hours and he'd strike. He'd have to wait for the target's guardian to fall asleep, not that it would take long, the man looked shattered. Then he'd be able to perform the task and wipe his hands of the job, and the girl lying in front of him. He'd be finally free to get on with his life, something he'd wanted to do for a long time. If all went well, he'd never have to see his boss ever again. Rolling his eyes at the child lying in front of him, he resisted the urge to just switch the machines off that were keeping her alive. He barely knew her, not that it mattered, he wouldn't be sticking around long enough for her to wake up. Nodding at a passing nurse, he rested his head against the back of the chair, the dulcet tone of the machines lulling him to sleep. He could do with a few hours sleep, it would make it easier to strike later.

.

Folding his arms across his chest, Harry watched as Annessa once again ignored his presence. Tears stung his eyes, but he wouldn't let them fall, wouldn't show weakness in front of her, he was used to this kind of treatment after all. Taking a deep breath, he brushed past her, not looking back. The silent treatment could be directed both ways. But that would be sinking to her level, and Harry was not going to do that! "Annessa?" Earning no response, he clenched his hands into fists, closing his eyes. "Look! I don't know what I did to deserve this! But I thought you were different! I thought you actually cared! Jokes on me though huh?!" Turning on his heels, he stormed off, pressing the heel of his hand into his eyes to stop the tears.

"Harry wait! It's not like that! Please let me explain!"

The pleading in her voice made him stop, though the last thing he wanted was for her to see him so vulnerable. "What's there to explain?"

She wiped away a few of her own tears, gripping hold of his hand. "I got my test results back earlier, I just didn't want to hurt you, but I guess it's too late for that now?"

What was she going on about? The last results had been good. In fact she was almost ready to go home, or to Hawaii with her family, depending whether they'd actually stop their holiday long enough to collect her.

"It's back Harry." She choked back a sob, leaning on his shoulder. "It's in my brain, all the way through my Lymphatic system."

His eyes met hers as he caught on to what she was saying. It couldn't be true! He wouldn't believe it!

"Harry, I'm dying!"

* * *

A/N: You like? Send me a review with your thoughts! :)

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	34. Chapter 34: To Think Of Death

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns the Harry Potter universe, not me!

I'm sorry this is so late! I got caught up on revising and watching Supernatural, so I do apologise!

I would like to thank Kendra Dhyanna and TheShulesLovinPsycho for reviewing! :)

TheShulesLovinPsycho I'm sorry if Harry seemed kinda OOC in the last chapter, but I just wanted to show what would happen if he got comfortable with someone and then had it seemingly ripped away, but thank you for letting me know so I can amend it in the future :)

I would also like to send my thanks to those that have Followed and Favourited this story, I welcome you all on Harry's journey!

* * *

Sometimes I wish I could save you

And there're so many things that I want you to know

I wont give up till it's over

If it takes you forever I want you to know

That if you fall

Stumble down

I'll pick you up off the ground

If you lose faith in you

I'll give you strength to pull through

Tell me you won't give up cause I'll be waiting if you fall

Oh you know I'll be there for you

If only I could find the answer

To take it all away

Simple Plan - Save You

* * *

Death. The one thing that no human can escape. If there was a way, no matter how high the price, Snape would have saved Annessa. But every option he thought of, would bring pain and misery to the young girl's life, and there was somethings that would make the cancer seem like a dream come true next to what she would face. Instead he would just have to be there, for her and for Harry. Everything comes to an end, whether you want it to or not. And though he didn't really want to be, Snape would have to act as the parent, as the one responsible for Annessa, the one who would stay with her until her last breath. Because he knew, though he prayed he was wrong, that her parents wouldn't come. They didn't seem to be the most reliable people in the world, and nobody deserved to die alone.

So whether he felt up to it or not, he would stay with her, and they could all say goodbye together. Him, Harry and Annessa, together until the end. There was just one thing that he couldn't shake off, no matter how hard he tried. Annessa had been so much healthier than Harry all through her treatment. No infections, barely any nausea. Yet now she had less than a week, maybe two if they were lucky. Life just wasn't fair, and the more he thought about it, the more depressing it seemed. Harry had a chance to beat it, to grow up and have a normalish life. But Annessa? Annessa would never be able to get married, or have children, or even finish high school. Annessa would never get to love, and that, no matter how old Snape got, would never be right.

.

Whoever said that dying is easy, clearly never had to say goodbye to someone they loved. It's different when you're young, too young to understand why someone has suddenly disappeared from your life without warning. Harry never knew his parents, not really. Not like Lupin had, or Sirius, or the mysterious Sev he had yet to figure out, the one his mother had written about in their first ever letter. But though they say you can't miss something you've never had, he did miss them, more than anything in the world. Annessa would be different, he had gotten to know her, shared her pain, her hope, her love. He'd been there when the doctors had said she'd be going home, and now he was there as the cancer slowly took over her body, killing her off slowly and most likely painfully. So while it may hurt to lose someone you never really knew, it would hurt a hell of a lot more to lose someone so close to you. He wasn't ready to lose her, not yet.

She didn't see him as so many others had. She just saw Harry, the Boy-With-Feelings. There had to be something more they could do! An experimental treatment, or a transplant, or anything! She couldn't die! He wouldn't let her. So many people had left him during his short life, and he wouldn't let her be one of them. Harry knew it was selfish to think only of himself, and he also knew that if there was a viable way to save her, Snape would have done it already. So all he really could do was stay with her, no matter what happened. She had stuck by him as he wasted away on the ventilator, and now he would do the same. It's the least he could do.

.

The man surveyed the corridor, his eyes flicking left and right to catch sight of any potential witnesses. It would be a quick and easy job, in and out in a few minutes. Then he could dance out into the darkness and never set eyes on anyone from the hospital again. Keeping the damn mask secured over his mouth, he smiled smugly to himself. The target's guardian had gone for coffee with a redheaded whirlwind of energy that talked far too much for the ungodly hour that it was. Nobody would be there to stop him, especially as the target's little friend had received some not so nice news. The kid was taking it like a little wimp if you asked him, couldn't she just deal with it? The target wasn't any better, and he wasn't even the one dying. Slipping in through the door, he checked one last time to make sure no eyes were watching, before approaching the sleeping teenager.

If you look at it a different way, he was actually putting the poor guy out of his misery. The disease would likely kill the boy anyway, and if not, the pain of losing that girl would send the kid over the edge. So it wasn't as if there wasn't an aspect of good in what he was doing, even if it was drowned out by the real reason, the reason that in all honesty seemed a little farfetched, especially after all the time that had passed. No doubt what he was trying to prevent had already happened, so tying up the loose ends would most likely be in vain. But who was he to argue with well paying orders?

Grabbing the pillow from the campbed by the window, he shook his head softly. How had he managed to get caught up in all of this? It had never been the plan, and if he'd been asked to do something like this five years ago, he'd have refused in a heartbeat. But things change, and it wasn't just himself he had to look out for now. Still he wished it had worked out differently. And as he pressed the pillow to the boy's face, he sent a whispered apology. It wasn't the kid's fault really, but someone had to pay the price for the boss's mistakes, and it sure as hell wasn't going to be anyone else.

.

Harry's lungs burned for oxygen as he thrashed out at an unknown figure. This nightmare was new, all the others had featured Vernon, never a stranger. Struggling against the weight pressing over his face, he hit the edge of a bar. Why was his nightmare in the hospital? And why did it hurt so much? His vision blurred around the edges, his glasses cutting into his nose. This wasn't a nightmare! Kicking out blinding, his foot connected with something, causing whatever it was to curse in pain. Finding an opportunity, he pushed the thing from his mouth, sucking in gulps of air. The figure, his eyes narrowed to near slits, ground out a few choice swear words, pushing him back against the mattress. "HELP!" His airway once again became blocked by material, and try as he might, he couldn't fight the strength of the older person. His limbs just wouldn't work anymore, no matter what he did. Struggling for breath, he heard the man whisper something so low he was sure he had heard wrong, before he was claimed by the blissful peace the darkness provided.

"Vernon says hello."

* * *

A/N: Another chapter done! Let me know how it was! :)

I have one prelim left, and then life should be back to normal!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	35. Chapter 35: For The Love Of A Daughter

Disclaimer: Harry Potter still isn't mine!

I know this is soooooo late! Please don't stab me! ;) I got caught up in playing the sims life stories, and I was away all weekend! So I do apologise!

Thank you to Kendra Dhyanna and LittleMissChatterbox2009 for reviewing :) I'm glad you are enjoying the story!

I would also like to thank everyone that Favourited and Followed! Welcome to Harry's adventure :)

* * *

The broken clock is a comfort

It helps me sleep tonight

Maybe it can stop tomorrow from stealing all my time

I am here still waiting though i still have my doubts

I am damaged at best, like you've already figured out

I'm falling apart, I'm barely breathing

With a broken heart that's still beating

In the pain, there is healing

In your name I find meaning

So I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on, I'm holdin' on

I'm barely holdin' on to you

Lifehouse - Broken

* * *

The minutes sluggishly ticked by as Snape drained cup after cup of the bitter liquid he'd grown to love. Molly had left a good hour ago, but he couldn't bring himself to get up from the wooden chair just yet, not while his mind was in such turmoil. Harry would be sleeping, and while only a few weeks ago Snape would have been glued to his side, the boy's nightmares had become much less frequent, and though it pained him, there was just no need to keep a constant vigil anymore. Stabbing at the half-eaten piece of cake that had been sitting in front of him since he got there, he let out a resigned sigh, pushing himself up.

The corridors were almost empty, with only a few bedraggled parents swaying shrieking toddlers left and right, Snape didn't envy them. The route back up to Fox ward was so familiar that Snape could have walked it in his sleep. Every single crack on the wall, or scuff on the floor had been memorised, and he felt a small amount of pride in knowing that even the route to the Elephant ward, where Annessa currently resided, was committed solely to memory, he doubted even her parents had done that. Then again he had become more of a parent to her than those pathetic excuses of human beings. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he glanced over at the deserted nurses station, his eyes straying to the board as he made a mental note of Harry's latest doctor on the list.

No alarm sounded as he rounded the corner, giving the ward an eerie silence. That should be a good sign, but Snape had found comfort in the high pitched wailing that sounded most nights. It seemed strange, even to Snape himself, yet even the heart wrenching sound of sobbing parents was better than silence, because silence burrowed deep beneath your skin and made you think, made your mind work, something noise never could do.

His footsteps echoed down the hall as he approached the door, and he had to wait a moment for his eyes to take in what he was seeing in the room. Was he hallucinating? Surely the nurses didn't need to do a test on Harry at this hour? It was at that moment he noticed it, the way his son lay perfectly still. Too still. Much too still. His heart hammered in his chest as his vision turned red. What the hell was that guy doing? "GET AWAY FROM MY SON!" Anger bubbled in his chest as he flung the man from the bed, ignoring the hurried footsteps of most likely every member of staff on the entire floor.

The man flung a fist at Snape's face, but all he felt was adrenaline pumping through his veins, hot and furious, wanting nothing more than to beat the man to a bloody pulp. Hands wrapped around his arms, dragging him kicking and screaming from the bastard that had hurt his son. It didn't matter who it was to Snape, all that mattered was that the guy was going to pay, no matter what the cost.

.

Another hour passed by as Albus Dumbledore paced his office restlessly, his eyes glued to the sky, anxious for news. The latest owl from Severus had been troubling to say the least, and though he knew going down to the hospital was strictly against the man's wishes, especially after the latest feud between Harry and McGonagall, he felt he would be of more use in the presence of the young man, and it would at the very least quell his fears. The message had been far too cryptic to get much information out of, which was no doubt Severus' aim.

The man may be a good potions master, but he was a great spy. Running a hand through his greying beard, Dumbledore surveyed the dark night, wishing there was something he could do for Severus. The man was like a son to him, and he couldn't bear the thought of him in any sort of pain. Sighing, he turned back towards Fawkes, petting the Phoenix. Severus would owl him soon enough, and until then he'd just have to find another way to occupy his time. It was either that or go mad. Which didn't seem desirable at all given the circumstances.

.

"Why did you do it? That's all I want to know."

The man looked up at the target's father, a look of defeat in his eyes. It wasn't supposed to end that way, and though he hated to admit it, he felt ashamed. The target was cared for, he was loved, he had a father. Never would he have done what he did if he'd have known that simple detail. He knew the pain of losing a child, the pain of the hospital visits, and the heart breaking news that you can never prepare for. "I had to." A sob escaped his lips as he let his eyes drop back to the floor. "My daughter's sick, she needs an experimental treatment, but they only do it in America, and I can't afford the cost." He shook his head, swiping at the tears. "I had no other choice! I couldn't lose her!" Through bleary eyes, he saw the man disappear from the room in the hands of the security guards. But he knew it should be him standing there. He'd messed up. He'd thrown not only his own life away, but that of his daughter as well. And that would haunt him for many years to come.

.

Brain damage. Those two words bounced around Snape's head as he perched on the edge of his chair, one of Harry's clammy hands held between both his own. Brain damage, well that and oxygen deprivation, were the two favourite phrases of every single medical professional that stepped within two feet of Harry's room, and it infuriated Snape to no end. How could they talk about his son like he was just another file? Just another statistic in a medical journal? Harry was more than that, so much more. Harry was bright, and funny, and the only thing Snape dragged himself out of bed for in the morning. Harry brought a purpose into the potions master's life, and someone had come and tried to take it all away, to snuff out a life in one single, heartless act. The worst part was that Snape could actually identify with the man.

If it had been Harry needing the procedure, could he really say he wouldn't have at least thought of doing what the man did? He had his family fortune to fall back on, and Dumbledore if all else failed. To have to watch your child die, knowing there was something you could do to save them, must have been horrendous. But to take another child's life to save your own? That would never be right. Harry had a life as well, and that life was just as important as any other child in the world. Exchanging a look with the security guard posted at the door, he ran a hand over his face, rising clumsily to his feet. His son may need him, but right at that moment he had a much higher priority to attend to.

.

Number four Privet Drive was silent as the hooded figure approached the door, uttering a whispered word to the locked door. Nobody stirred as the mystery person tiptoed up the stairs, in search of one individual in particular. The women would of course have to pay, but it was the man they really wanted. The man needed to suffer, and he needed to suffer now. Pushing open the bedroom door, the figure shook the shoulders of the snoring man, wrinkling their nose in distaste. Looking down at the confused eyes of the obese man, the figure flashed him a psychotic smile. "Hello Vernon, and welcome to hell."

* * *

A/N: I hope you guys liked it! Leave a review and let me know what you think :)

The next one should hopefully be up tomorrow!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	36. Chapter 36: An Overdue Punishment

Disclaimer: Nope! Enough said ;)

This is really late but I got caught up with back to school things because we just had a week off, and my days got really mixed up! But here it is, better late than never!

Thank you to the Guest for reviewing! It's a good thought ;) I'm not gonna disclose any information until later in the story though so you'll just have to wait and see who it turns out to be :)

I would like to say welcome to any new readers, followers and favouriters (Is that even a word?) on the journey! :)

On with the story!

* * *

I'm finding me out,

I'm having my doubts,

I'm losing the best of me.

We're all part of the same, sick little games,

And I need a get-away (get away)

I'm wasting my days, I throw them away,

Losing it all on these sick little games.

All Time Low - Sick Little Games

* * *

The man twitched in his sleep, a strange stick enclosed tightly in his fist. Vernon whimpered, unable to twist his head even an inch. His family was someone in the strange warehouse, but he had no idea where. Who was this person anyway? Vernon wasn't aware he owed anyone anything, and nobody would be foolish enough to hire a hitman out on him, would they? The guys would hear about it anyway, and then they'd rescue him from the damn psychopath currently sleeping in front of him. What was he playing at? Nobody could kidnap Vernon Dursley and get away with it! He would make the man pay! It would be slow, and painful, definitely painful. With lots of blood! Maybe he could even get that guy he'd hired to take out his pathetic excuse of a nephew to help. A smile found its way onto his lips as he thought of how he was rid of his little problem. The freak wouldn't be bothering him ever again, and he'd finally be able to get on with his life. All he had to do was get out of the chair he was currently stuck in, and kill the man holding him hostage. That couldn't be too hard, could it?

.

"You've gotta wake up Harry! You've got to live! You're not the one that's supposed to die!" Annessa covered her mouth to muffle a sob as the boy lying in front of her stayed as still as ever, the ventilator breathing for him in slow, methodical gasps. It was different last time he was in that position. They had antibiotics, and bucket loads of other tablets and medicines to pump into him. Right then she wished it was an infection, at least that way they could help him. But there were no tablets for this, no cure for oxygen deprivation. He would either wake up, or he wouldn't. And even if he did there would be a big chance of him being permanently brain damaged. If he did end up unable to do anything for himself, would it really be better for him to live? His father would take care of him no matter what, but to have that kind of burden on your shoulders wouldn't be easy, far from it actually.

Her head throbbed in time with the heart monitor, and as she wiped another tear from her cheek, she couldn't help but think that it would soon be her lying there. Would it be painful? Or just like going to sleep? Her parents wouldn't be there, and by the looks of things Harry wouldn't be either. She'd always been so optimistic about the future, about what would happen when she got better. But there would be no future, there would be no getting better and growing up. Everything the doctors had said about her being able to beat it had been a lie, she'd gone through it all, every treatment they'd had available, and all it had done was crushed her spirit, and worn her down to nothing.

But Harry hadn't left, not even when she got the news, not even when she'd tried to distance herself from him. He had promised to be there until the end, not that it mattered anymore. In a way he had been there until the end, but it was his end, not hers. He wouldn't finish his story, just as she wouldn't. It wasn't fair how his life could be snatched so suddenly without a care in the world.

"Time to go back to your room Annessa, he'll still be here tomorrow."

A small twitch caught her eye as she heaved herself up from the chair, her heart leaped at the prospect of him waking up. Shaking her head as he stayed as motionless as ever, she leant over the bed, bringing her mouth up to his ear. "I love you so much Harry, and I'm so sorry."

.

"I demand you untie me at once! This is highly illegal and my men will find me! Do you even know who I am? I am Vernon Dursley! A highly respectable and powerful man!"

The mysterious man smirked, his eyes cold and hard, glinting in the small light of the single bulb. "Well why didn't you say so? Here I was thinking you were just a scummy child molester, but thank you for clearing that up." The sarcasm dripped from his words, and he couldn't help but chuckle at Dursley's expression. Did the big oaf really think he'd gotten away with it? The thought made the man sick, how could anyone be so cold?

"Child molester? I have done no such thing! Now release me at once! Who are you to accuse me of such things?!"

The man sighed, twirling the wand between his fingers as he flicked his eyes up and down Dursley's body, flashing him a condescending sneer. If only the killing curse wasn't illegal. His fingers itched to curse the pig into oblivion, but he had to show some restraint, at least until the others got there, then the fun could really begin.

"Who am I? I'm your worst nightmare, and I have all night to prove it." Pulling his chair in front of the pig, he scratched at his head with the tip of his wand. "You see? You hurt something of mine, something very precious to me, and I'm going to need some form of payment to make it even a fraction better." He raised his hand as Dursley began to speak, covering the oaf's mouth. "Not money, if that's what you were going to offer, money won't cover it I'm afraid." He drew his hand away, wiping it in disgust on his cloak. "Don't worry though, I won't touch that kid of yours, he's perfectly safe, and he'll soon be in a care home where he'll be treated like an actual human being should be, and not a spoilt bully, I can't say the same about your wife though, she deserves punishment just as much as you do."

"You leave my family alone! Or I swear to God I'll-"

The man's fist bounced off Dursley's face, splattering blood across the wall behind him. "Did I say you could speak? We're going to do this my way, and if you behave, I may just let you live long enough to be torn apart in prison." Hearing Dursley whimper, he felt a rush of excitement. So what if what he was doing was illegal, he could alter the Dursley's memories when he was done with them. "And you will go to prison. They already have that little friend of yours, and I'm sure Harry will be very happy to testify against you in court." Dursley's face turned an off grey colour, and the man smirked in triumph. Of course Harry might not live long enough to testify, the thought made his blood run cold, but he'd never tell Dursley that, it would ruin the fun. "Now why don't we get started, there's so much to cover and I must be back by ten, but don't worry, I'll make this a night you won't easily forgot."

* * *

A/N: So how did I do? Was it good? Bad? Leave a review to let me know! :)

The next one will be posted either tomorrow or Monday, depending on when I next get on my laptop!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	37. Chapter 37: Not Just Another Statistic

Disclaimer: As much as I'd love them, J.K Rowling has all the rights to the Harry Potter Universe!

Thank you to hellokitty1996 for your review, I'm still undecided about Vernon's fate, but I do have a few ideas up my sleeves :)

Also thank you and welcome to the newest viewers, and all those who have Followed and Favourited! You are welcomed with open arms on this adventure :)

* * *

All these lives that you've been taking

Deep inside my heart is breaking

Broken homes from separation

Don't you know it's violation?

It's so wrong but you'll see

Never gonna let you take my world from me.

The world outside these walls may know you're breathing

But you ain't comin' in

Daughtry - All These Lives

* * *

"Open your eyes for me Harry, I need to say goodbye! I can't go without saying goodbye!"

The words echoed through Harry's dreams, but try as he might, he just couldn't reach the source of them. His eyes failed to open, almost as if they were glued shut and his lungs burned with every breath he failed to suck in. Was it supposed to hurt so much in your dreams? Did the doctors think that because he wasn't fully conscious, he wouldn't be able to feel the pain that coursed through his veins at every tiny movement? She was there, his Annessa, he could hear her sometimes.

Her quiet sobbing clawed at his heart in the brief moments he woke, unable to move, unable to do anything but lie there, seeing nothing but darkness, hearing everything around him. He had tried to reach out to her, tried to comfort her, but she hadn't noticed, and nobody else took the time to sit with him long enough to get a reaction. Snape wasn't there, or at least he hadn't heard him, and it hurt knowing his dad wasn't by his side as he usually was. Had he finally gotten sick of the freak Harry was? Why couldn't that man have finished the job? Then everyone would have been happy!

"Please Harry! If you can hear me, remember I love you! Your dad loves you! He'll be back later, so you gotta wake up for him, okay? He said he was doing something to make you feel better, so you need to show him it worked!"

Well almost everyone. Did Annessa really care about him so much? And what about Snape? What could he possibly be doing that would make him feel better? Unless he'd found a new side-effectless drug to help combat the Leukaemia, then Harry seriously doubted it would make any difference. In fact, the only thing he could think of that would make it all better was actually having his dad next to him, holding his hand, telling him it would all be okay. That's all he wanted. Yes he was trapped in the darkness, but that didn't mean he had to be alone in there, company was what he craved at that moment in time. Annessa was good, but something had changed in her, she wasn't the same carefree person he'd known only days ago. Had he done that to her? Had he extinguished the light she held in her eyes? Crying out from the confines of his mental prison, he wished with all of his magic that he could see her one last time. But wishes don't come true, do they?

.

"How was your sleep? Mine was very refreshing!"

Vernon groaned in pain, biting down on a piece of material lodged in his mouth. The taste of petrol assaulted his senses, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't spit the offending thing out. That thing hadn't been in his mouth earlier. Was there any purpose to it? Clearly nobody had been able to hear him the last time he was awake.

"Now that you've had time to think things over, I'd like to set out some rules in this." The man paused, his brows scrunched in thought. "Let's call it a fun house."

Fun house? What sort of sick psychopath was that guy? Vernon attempted to scream something, the words getting lost behind the gag. Where the hell were his men? Hadn't they noticed he was missing by now? It should be that guy in the chair, with Vernon taunting him, not the other way around. For as long as he could remember, he'd been the one calling the shots. Especially when it came to those pathetic guys he hired to do the dirty work. The newest one was way to easy with that kid of his. The brat would be lucky if she lived two weeks, especially now her good for nothing father had failed. He had one simple task, kill the freak. Was that so hard? Evidently so for a braindead moron.

"That thing in your mouth serves one purpose, you see? I'm going to recreate something Harry told me, and though I know it won't be nearly as thrilling for me as it was for you, I will try my best."

Vernon's breath caught in his throat as his eyes took in the table of tools sitting against the wall. So the freak had squealed? He would definitely pay for that! All Vernon had to do was get the man to untie him somehow, and then he'd be free to kill off all ties connecting to the blasted Potter. But how to escape? He could try to earn the man's trust? That may work. Nodding to himself, he composed a conversation in his head. All he had to do was convince the man that Potter had lied to him. It would be like taking candy from a baby. They didn't call him the best man for nothing.

.

A small cat slunk into the old warehouse, brushing up against the lone figure with a compassion neither had experienced from one another before. That night they were united, both with only one thing on their minds, to make things right for Harry. Nobody messed with something of theirs, not ever. Magical laws or not, there was so much you could do without a wand. The man bent down, scratching at the cat's ears, a small grin on his face.

"You know what must be done?"

The cat meowed softly, hissing in the direction of the scum that had harmed her Lion. So what if they destroyed a life in the process of earning justice for one broken boy. Even He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was a saint compared to the Dursley's. But neither of them would be able to hurt anyone ever again, not after they had finished with them. Blood could be mopped up, and the old place was being torn down pretty soon anyway to make way for the new memorial building that was in the process of being finalised. The owner, who the cat had gotten to know more in the past five minutes than she had in the years she'd known him, was more than happy to let the place go with a grand party. The Dursley's just so happened to be the main event. Stalking off in front, she pushed her way into the concrete room, sinking her claws into a leg as she passed the whale of a man. It was definitely going to be a night to remember.

.

It wasn't true what they said. That you couldn't feel anything when you were in a coma. Harry could feel. He could feel every damn thing. Every needle prick. Every sharp thing. Every tear that dropped onto his hand from one of four visitors. He could hear more voices, not one of them Snape. But Ron had come by, and it had taken his mother carrying him kicking and screaming from the room to actually get him to leave. Hermione came too, but she was much easier to convince to leave, and she did so with a tearful goodbye.

Was that them giving up? Was it really that hopeless? Ron would never give up, Harry knew that. The redhead was more stubborn than practically everyone he knew. And Annessa? She would carry on going until her own clock stopped, and then she'd accept it, as she already seemed to have done. Death is inevitable. There is no easy way out, not really. An easy way out would be to cheat death entirely. To live forever in a world with no pain, no suffering. That was the life Harry wished to live. A life with no more death, no more illness, no more pain.

It wasn't true what they said. That childhood is the kingdom where nobody dies. Death doesn't care if your life hasn't even started yet, or if you have enough dreams to fill a bucket five times over. Most people associate dying with those old folks in nursing homes. Just as most people associate cancer with smokers, and the OAP's of the world.

But in reality, an average of 1,574 children are diagnosed with the disease every year in Britain. And of that 1,574, an average of 252 lose their battle. The statistics are even worse for teenagers, with an average of 2,234 teenagers and young adults being diagnosed each year, and 311 of those losing their fight. Harry couldn't end up as another statistic, another name forgotten. Annessa had once revealed that fear to him, and he had promised he would never allow that to happen to her, but if he died as well, who would remember them? Who would keep their memory alive for years to come? Who would care?

* * *

A/N: How did I do? Hit review and let me know! If there is anything at all you'd like added, or anything that doesn't seem quite right, please let me know either by private message or in a review :)

The figures at the end are real, and were taken from the Cancer Research UK website

For those none English folk out there, OAP stands for Old Age Pensioner, so basically the elderly people.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, the next will be up Friday as I have cadets tomorrow!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	38. Chapter 38: A Brother's Love

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling is the owner of the Potter gang, I just make them do evil things :D

This is sooooooooo late and I'm really sorry! I've been writing up two Higher assessments, and I have another one next week, and one the week after! I did start writing this a few days ago but I've only just gotten round to finishing it!

Thank you to the guest for reviewing! :)

This has gotten so many Favouriters (That is definitely not a word but I'll just ignore everything I've been taught in Higher English) and Followers! I'd like to thank you all for your support on this! :)

On with the story!

* * *

You got wires going in

You got wires coming out of your skin

You got tears making tracks

I got tears that are scared of the facts

Running down corridors

Through automatic doors

Got to get to you

Got to see this through

Athlete - Wires

* * *

"School starts soon mate, and it won't be any good without you." Ron brushed a strand of hair from his eyes, grumbling as it flopped back down definitely. He was supposed to get a haircut last week, but he just couldn't bring himself to even complete that menial task. His mother had threatened, on numerous occasions he might add, to chop it off herself, and while that would normally scare him into action, he didn't have the energy to comply with her demands. His bestfriend was lying comotosed in a hospital bed, barely clinging to life, and all she could think about was how bad Ron's hair looked. That wasn't right. Ron would have spiders growing from his head if it meant that Harry got better.

"Hermione was asking about you, she wants you to know that she's been working on a surprise for you, for when you get better." He sighed, his eyes flickering to the dark sky. It was early, far too early to be out of bed, but he couldn't sleep at home, and a small part of him thought he'd get a little bit of peace if he visited the hospital. That part had been very wrong. It hurt, more than anything in the world, to see his mate like that, all those wires attached to different body parts. They had monitors for everything, from his heart, to his brain, to his oxygen levels. Each gave off a steady satisfying beep, all in time with the quiet whir of the ventilator.

If Professor Burbage gave them an essay on muggle medical equipment right there, Ron would've been able to answer it all in a heartbeat. He didn't know what was worse, the fact that he was visiting the hospital in the first place, or the fact that he now knew the name of every single staff member that had interacted with Harry. In fact, he had gotten so good he could predict exactly what the staff were going to say at shift change. He'd even come to a sort of alliance with Annessa and Snape, each taking turns at watching their mate while the other got some well needed sleep. It was supposed to be Snape's turn now, but Ron knew the man had had more than his fair share of vigils, and besides, he'd left yesterday without an explanation. "Come on Harry, don't make me tell Malfoy that you got beaten by a muggle!" A grim smile curled his lips as he thought of that. Malfoy would probably die from laughing so hard. At least it would get rid of him.

.

"Please let me go! I'm sorry! I'll never touch him again!"

The man raised his eyebrows, biting off a small portion of dead skin from his thumb. "I know you won't touch him again, you're never going to lay your revolting eyes on him again, apart from in court of course." Every time court or prison were thrown into the conversation, Dursley would turn a magnificent shade of greeny grey, his breathing hitched. Prison was an unforgiving place for the best of people, but those that harmed children were beneath even the sewage in the prison system, and he knew that the inmates wouldn't take kindly to anyone that took joy in beating and violating a defenseless little boy. It sickened the man to think of all that had happened to young Harry, and for so long.

The more he dwelled on it, the worse he wanted to hurt the scum that had harmed the poor child. Breathing out through his nose, he attempted to compose himself. If he killed the worthless thing, justice wouldn't be rightly served. Dursley had to suffer over a long period of time, not just through one night. There was only so much you could do with a limited number of hours, and it was not nearly enough to make it count. "I wonder how that wife of your's is doing, my colleague is sure to be having fun with her." A different colour bloomed on the podgy face, the red illuminating his entire face.

"If you touch my wife I swear to God I'll-"

The man closed the distance between them, tightening his hand around Dursley's throat. "I may not be a religious man Mr. Dursley, but even I cringe at you saying such a sacred name, especially given the circumstances." Releasing the slimeball, he once again wiped his hand clean of the damp sweat that had accumulated on the sorry excuse of a man. The sweet aroma of sweat radiated off Dursley's body, along with the rancid stench of urine. It was disgusting really. Even Harry, who had suffered far worse than his abuser, hadn't had an accident during the day, not that he knew of anyway. "Now where were we?" He picked up the studded belt, pulling it tight between two hands. "I'm going to enjoy this!"

.

"I think it's best if you went home love, I bet your parents are wondering where you've gotten to."

That wasn't strictly speaking true. Ron had left a note, and even if he hadn't, his mother would know exactly where he was. It wasn't like he had anywhere else to be, except maybe the hairdressers. "I'm fine thanks, and I honestly don't think it's any of your business." The woman tutted disapprovingly at his tone, pushing the cleaning cart further down the hallway. She was the woman that had thrown away the snowglobe. Even Snape had grown to dislike her, especially after she had taken his expensive chocolate because she thought it had gone bad, more likely she ate it herself.

Ron would love to show her exactly what happened to people that stole food in the Weasley household. Maybe Harry could do it with him, when he woke up, if he woke up. It terrified him, the fact that his bestfriend might never be able to play another prank on Malfoy and his posse. It just wasn't fair! He didn't want Harry to die. The boy had been there with him since first year, when Malfoy had tried to turn Harry against him. The boy had been there for him then, so now Ron would repay the favour, even if it meant staying there until his friend died. It was the only way he knew how to make it up to him.

Ron had never had someone close to him die before. All his grandparents showed their faces maybe once a year, and brought presents that even a four year old would turn their nose up at. So when they had popped their clogs, he hadn't even blinked. But Harry was different. Harry a brother in everything except blood, and he just couldn't face the possibility of losing him. There had to be some spell, or potion, that would wake him up. It didn't matter to Ron that he would probably be breaking dozens of wizarding laws, or that he could very much end up in Azkaban. He had to at least try. There was no other option. He had to. For Harry.

* * *

A/N: Well that's another chapter done and dusted! Let me know how bad it was with a review ;) If there is anything you'd like to see, or anything that doesn't sit right with you, let me know either through a review or a private message :)

I'm not gonna say when the next one will be up because whenever I do that, it's always late! So I'm just gonna randomly post it whenever I'm next on my laptop!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	39. Chapter 39: The Hardest Goodbye

Disclaimer: Tis still J.K Rowling's! I only give the characters really horrible lives :)

I'm sorry to make you wait for an entire week! This one is slightly longer than normal though so I hope you forgive me! The bad news is I have an assignment for history to prepare for so I have no idea how regular the updates will be, the good news is I only have three weeks left of school until the Easter holidays so during those two weeks off I should be able to post one a day!

Thank you to the Guest for reviewing! And thank you to all of you fantastic people who have Followed, Favourited or have just gotten this far without complaining ;)

Onwards!

* * *

This time, This place

Misused, Mistakes

Too long, Too late

Who was I to make you wait?

Just one chance

Just one breath

Just in case there's just one left

'Cause you know,

you know, you know

That I love you

I have loved you all along

And I miss you

Been far away for far too long

I keep dreaming you'll be with me

and you'll never go

Stop breathing if

I don't see you anymore

Nickelback - Far Away

* * *

Pain erupted through Vernon Dursley's body with every fraction of an inch he moved, his uncivilised grunting echoing through the room. The two, or was it three? people had disappeared somewhere in the building, he just hoped they weren't near his wife or son. If he could make it to the instrument table, maybe he could free himself and his family before anything else happened, before they came to... The thought of what they were planning to do to his manhood made him shiver, causing more agony. He had to get out before that happened, before they took away something he'd never get back.

If worse came to worse he could start again in another city, another country, where no one would know of his past, of his history. That was if he could just get himself out of the damn chair. Whoever thought of inventing rope and ducktape should be shot, then burned alive, then brought back to life and hung by their manhood. Vernon had never used rope on the freak, there had been no need. Always the runt, the smallest in any room.

Was it the lack of food? Or bad blood as Marge had always said? Though he'd met the Potter's only once, the stories he had heard were far worse than anything he could imagine. Potions and magic. Mythical beasts that one heard of in fairly tales. Freaks. And the boy had grown up just like them. Just as abnormal, just as strange. Despite his best efforts Vernon could not beat it out of the boy, and as that became more apparent, he had turned to other methods, pleasurable methods.

Petunia was happy to look the other way as long as Dudley stayed safe from harm. He would never lay a hand on his own blood, that would be wrong on so many levels. But Harry was of no relation to him, at least not by blood. And if the Potter's hadn't gotten themselves blown up, Vernon wouldn't have even looked twice at the boy if they passed on the street. So it wasn't wrong what he did, some may say it was a genius thing to do. Now all he had to do was make sure the damn brat couldn't spill the beans, and this time, he'd do it himself.

.

"I want you to open your eyes for me, show me those beautiful eyes." Snape massaged his temple, taking another sip of the amber liquid in his flask. Alcohol wasn't strictly allowed on the ward, or in the hospital in general. But it wasn't as if he didn't deserve it, and he wasn't staying long anyway. "I'm sorry I haven't been around much, there was something I had to do, but it'll be over soon, and then I'll be able to stay with you until you're better, if you get better." He was tired, exhausted even. His whole body weighted down by the guilt, the knowledge that no matter what he did, he always seemed to fail his son.

He didn't want to be that person, the one that never managed to quite be there for their child. Annessa's parents were prime examples, and Snape would never become what they were. Even if it meant quitting his job at Hogwarts for good, and maybe moving to France, or Switzerland, that was a neutral country right? And if worse comes to worse, Belgium legalised Euthanasia for children, so if Harry didn't improve, or couldn't be cured, at least they had that option to consider. What kind of father was he? Making plans as if Harry was already gone, as if there was nothing more they could do.

The chemo couldn't wait, and while they normally put of treatment until the patient was recovering, there was just no time to wait. The first infection had already put a major dent in his progress, and waiting again would be like the doctors digging Harry's grave themselves.

But it pained Snape even more than before to watch his child waste away in that bed, his cheeks hollow, his limbs fragile and twig like, his skin translucent. Even Annessa hadn't progressed so much in such a short time frame, and it almost made Snape angry. She was supposed to be dying, not Harry! That thought alone tore at his heart. Of course it wasn't Annessa's fault, none of it was, and she, unlike Harry, had no hope of a future. Harry still had a chance, and Snape would fight with every bone in his body until he got his son back, no matter the price.

.

"Goodbye Harry, I'll stop by soon, I'm sorry about what happened, I just wish you'd wake up for me."

The man's voice sounded thick with tears, and Harry once again found himself clawing at the blackness, screaming with all his might to be noticed in the darkness. He was trying to wake up, why couldn't they see that?! He wanted to see his father's face again, and see if Mrs Weasley had actually gone through with her haircut threat. He needed to speak to Annessa, to tell her he loved her one last time. But he just couldn't! Nothing worked. No amount of crying out helped him achieve his goal, and he was becoming more and more frustrated as time wore on.

He didn't want to die, not like this, trapped in a pit of nothingness. He wanted his friends, his family, his life back. What he wouldn't give to be back in Snape's manor with Pickles by his side. Hell, he'd even face Voldemort if it meant getting back to the life he knew. School would soon be starting, and he knew Ron would pitch up one hell of a fuss when he was carted off to the train, a typical Weasley reaction when it came to something they didn't want to do.

"Why should I? We're not exactly friends!"

Malfoy? What was he doing there? Surely Voldemort hadn't sent the Malfoy's to finish him off?

"Severus has asked us to at least talk to him, and as much as I despised what Potter did in order to protect his family, I would never go against family Draco, even if it meant facing the Dark Lord's wrath."

If Harry had been able to move, he'd be frozen in shock. As it stood, he was frozen anyway, so the words had no physical effect. Mentally though? Mentally he was screaming at himself, so certain he was dreaming. The Malfoy's had always hated his guts. Had Snape done something to them? He had to have, there was no way any of the Malfoy's would willing enter the same room as Harry unless there had been some sort of magic involved. Weren't the unforgivable curses forbidden though?

Mentally shaking his head, he made another futile attempt at breaking free, his lonesome voice echoing through the dark. He didn't want to be there anymore! The darkness was much to uncertain. The darkness was much to lonely. The darkness was much to dark.

.

Draco Malfoy was not a soft child. He had been through Quidditch accidents, and family deaths, and even his parents arguing into the small hours of the morning when he was small. But nothing could prepare him for the sight of his school rival, lying unrecognisable under literally dozens of wires. He wasn't even Potter anymore, he was just an empty shell, being pumped full of what appeared to be hazardous potions judging from the stickers on the bags. Draco looked up uncertainly at his father, wringing his hands together nervously. "I don't know if I-" His father lay a comforting hand on his shoulder, pushing him slightly forward.

"Just talk to him, let him know he's not alone."

Not alone? Draco could see the pain in his father's eyes, the memories still haunting the older man after all those years. Draco had only been one when the accident had happened, the night the Potter's had perished under Voldemort's hand. Yet despite his young age, he could still remember the way it felt, being tossed about, the harsh cackling in his ear. And the soft, hushed words of the man his god father loathed.

James Potter didn't have to help him, if he'd taken his family and fled they would still be safe now, and maybe his father wouldn't feel so guilty about the whole event? Maybe Harry would't have been fighting for his life? But James had stayed, he had fought for his half-nephew with so much strength, so much love. Draco had been saved by a man he had never known, and never would.

Maybe that was why he hated Harry so much? Because he'd had something Draco never could, even if it was only briefly. Harry had known the unconditional love of James for a year, all Draco had was one night. And there was pictures for Harry, memories of good times. Harry had something nobody could take away, and it infuriated Draco to no end.

But looking at the boy now, he couldn't help but make a connection to that night. He had ended up just as Harry was now, all wires and tubes. And his father had stayed, even after the news of James, even after the doctors had given up hope. So now Draco would do the same for Harry, to show gratitude to the man that saved his life. To show that despite everything, he really did care for the green eyed Lion he loved to hate.

.

"You can not be serious! There has to be something more you can do!" Snape clutched desperately at his son's hand, unwilling to let the news sink in. They couldn't be giving up! It had only been a week! So what if Harry wasn't responding to any of the tests? He could still be in there! And nothing they said would make Snape think otherwise!

"I'm sorry, but we've exhausted our resources! He's going to be in that coma indefinitely, there's no hope Mr Snape. I've called in those that you requested on the form, to say goodbye."

It couldn't end that way! He couldn't lose his child! Collapsing beside the bed in a sobbing heap, he furiously shook his head. There was other options! There had to be! He didn't even respond when the door swished open, or when a soothing hand clenched around his shoulder. Voices couldn't penetrate the wall blocking out the pain, and it was only when the doctor returned that he lifted his head.

"Whenever you're ready sir, remember it's for the patient's sake?"

The patient? This doctor obviously didn't know Harry like the other's did. Harry was so much more than just a patient. He had become the main soul of the hospital, always brightening everyone's day. Squeezing Annessa's hand in his own, Snape nodded his head, head once again bowed. Hermione kept her head pressed firmly against Ron's shoulder, and out of the corner of his eye, Snape saw the telltale blonde hair of the Malfoy's outside in the corridor. "I'm so sorry Harry!"

The haunting call of the machine filled the room as the wires were taken from the small fragile body. A button was pressed, taking with it the song of the dead. Leaving behind only the heart wrenching sobs of a father who should never have outlived his son.

* * *

A/N: You guys like? Hit Review and let me know! :)

If something seems wrong or you want something added just let me know!

I know Draco and Lucius are really Out of Character but I like the Malfoys, and I think they have the potential to be a really nice family ;)

Thanks, nicholosaur :)


	40. Chapter 40: Not Without A Fight

Disclaimer: I still do not own Harry Potter!

Thank you to LittleMissChatterbox2009, imaginationcelebration, hellokitty1996 and the Guest for reviewing. All of you had the same question which will be answered in this chapter ;)

I'd like to take this time to welcome any new comers to the story, and say thank you to all those that managed to get this far on Harry and Snape's journey with me :)

On we go!

* * *

And it's not my time, I'm not going

There's a fear in me but it's not showing

This could be the end of me

And everything I know

But it's not my time, I'm not going

There's a will in me and now I know that

This could be the end of me

And everything I know

Oh but I won't go

I won't go

3 Doors Down - Not My Time

* * *

Just a little closer! If Vernon could just get even a tiny bit nearer he'd be able to reach the table, and then it would be nothing but the open road. Grunting loudly as sweat rolled down his neck in large beads, he twisted his head this way and that, attempting to grab something with the less bruised of his two hands. Cursing loudly in frustration, he thrust himself forward, clattering to the ground with a rather large looking knife. Now all he had to do was get the rope off, not an easy task when your arms are bound to your body. He couldn't stop now though, not when he was so close to winning.

The first thing he'd do was call his men, they definitely needed straightening out! And then maybe pay a little visit to the pest that put him in this position. The freak was definitely going to pay for all that had happened. Silencing the kid would be easy. Amateur work. The hardest part would be deciding which city, or maybe country, to disappear to. Somewhere far from Surrey, the implications of what the boy babbled about would be far too great to allow Vernon to stay in his own home. Angling the knife up against the rope, he flicked his wrist in an attempt to saw at the thick bindings. He just hoped he got free before they came back, otherwise he'd be dead. Even he knew that now.

.

Silence soon filled the room, thick and smothering, reminding him of what had happened. It wasn't fair! harry was so young! He didn't deserve to have life ripped from him so cruelly! Why couldn't they have taken Snape instead? Or Vernon! That slimeball would definitely be paying for what he did now! Wiping his nose on the edge of his sleeve, Snape rubbed his red-rimmed eyes. Harry had shown him so much in such a short space of time. A piece of his heart he never thought would ever thaw had been unlocked by the small boy, and Snape knew his life would never be the same again.

What would happen now? Surely they didn't expect him to return to life as normal? To return to Hogwarts? He couldn't go back there, not with all the memories that would assault his senses if he did. The same could be said for the manor. Their bond had been forged there, in the quiet storm of nightmare filled nights. Even Pickles would bring to many unwanted memories, maybe the hospital would like him as a therapy dog?

"I'm sorry for your loss." The man turned to the nurse beside him. "Time of death, two-for-"

One breath. One single breath. Snape's head shot up, his eyes landing on his son's chest, still rising and falling without the machine. Lungs still working. Heart still beating. He reached out, his hands shaking. "Harry? Harry!" Another breath, another beat. "Wake up for me Harry!" Uneven shallow breathing filled the air, a tiny beacon of hope in the never-ending hurricane.

"I don't believe it, we need help in here!"

Doctors swarmed the room, carting out distraught friends in an attempt to stabilise the boy. "Come on buddy! I know you're in there!" Always a fighter. Snape couldn't remember a time when Harry hadn't proven them wrong. That kid just loved to give people heart attacks. The thought made Snape smile, Harry was probably laughing in his head right now. Wires were reattached, machines switched on, once again filling the room with the soothing beeps that filled Snape's heart with joy.

Nothing could keep his son from life! It was as if the child wanted to prove that the obnoxious doctor knew nothing when it came to patients, and Snape was happy to see he had been successful. Harry's doctor held nothing back when dealing with the man, her words loud and sharp, cutting at the idiotic and heartless actions of the man. Despite the situation, Snape couldn't help but laugh. The tensions of the day leaving him as his shoulders relaxed. Tears flowed from his eyes once more, this time for a different reason. Harry always had a way of causing a reaction. And to be honest Snape was getting a little too old for all this excitement.

.

All Ron could do was peer through the half closed blinds, Hermione's hand tucked safely in his own. What was going on in there? If Harry was still breathing, that was good right? So why did they look so somber? Harry's doctor continued his shouting match with the other doctor, the one Ron had never seen before, and though he had no idea why, it made his skin crawl. His best mate was still unconscious in that hospital room, and the most important member of Harry's medical team was screaming out a string of explicits in the middle of the hallway. If anyone had been sleeping, they wouldn't be now. Couldn't they continue their berating later? In private perhaps?

His mother placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder, nodding her head in the direction of Snape, who at least seemed to get enjoyment out of the situation. Ron would never be able to understand what went through his potions master's head, but whatever it was, Ron was glad he shared it with Harry. Before Snape, Harry had always only been half there, never fully committed to his life. But Snape had broke him from his shell, had woken something that Ron had never seen.

It was as if a secret door had been unlocked in Harry's mind, and though he had despised Snape at one point, Ron couldn't bring himself to anymore. The man had done more for both Annessa and Harry than anyone had ever thought of doing. He was there no matter what, through the good times and the bad, and though he hated to admit it, the man was actually an inspiration to Ron. Now all he had to do was get Harry better, and Ron would worship at his feet. There was few things that got Ron feeling like that, but he'd kiss the man if it meant getting Harry better.

.

The scene that lay before Annessa was becoming a little too familiar for her liking. When Harry woke up she would definitely be delivering a swift punch to his arm. If it wasn't an infection, it was an allergic reaction, or being smothered by a random guy with a pillow. Nothing seemed to go right with his treatment, and in all honesty it was really starting to infuriate her. Why couldn't he be normal? In fact, she was pretty sure he held the record for most things wrong in the shortest amount of time on Fox, Robin and Elephant ward. Even some of the kids that had been there for over a year couldn't beat it.

Even now he was cheating death in a way that none of the doctors had predicted. The ventilator had definitely been breathing for him, even seconds before the machine was switched off. Yet somehow his lungs had jumped into action, and his heart had kickstarted back into action, despite the flatline they had all witnessed. Had the machine malfunctioned? Or did he simply decide that fighting was much better than the sweet relief that death would provide?

Whatever the reason, Annessa couldn't be anymore thankful that he would outlast her, that he would actually have a chance of getting better. She may not be able to grow up herself, but she would at least die at peace knowing that no matter what, her only true friend would continue their legacy long into the future. He would never let her memory die, and for that she couldn't be more grateful. All he had to do now was wake up. And she hoped and prayed he would. For everyone's benefit.

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A/N: Another chapter done and dusted! Hit review and tell me what you think of the latest installment. I'm open to any suggestions, so just let me know if you want to see something in the story, or if something doesn't seem quite right :)

I won't be going anywhere tomorrow so I should be able to write the next chapter, I make no promises though!

Thanks for taking the time to view, seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	41. Chapter 41: A Selfish Life

Disclaimer: Harry Potter will never belong to me!

I feel so bad that I haven't posted in a while but I've managed to finish all of my assessments and I only have one more test to do before the exams start in May! The Easter holidays start on Thursday so I'll be able to post more often! :)

Thank you to the Guest for reviewing! You'll soon find out what's going to happen ;) I won't say anymore :p

Welcome to any new readers, and thank you to all those who have Followed and Favourited the story!

Onwards!

* * *

So many things are trying to keep me

And so many voices trying to reach me

To tell me that this is not the way

To tell me that this is my mistake

Oh, let the rain keep falling down

Cause it won't stop me

From getting where I'm bound

Maybe I'm crazy

Maybe it's too late

But I'm gonna make it

Don't care what the skies say

So oh, let it rain

Let it rain

Kris Allen - Let It Rain

* * *

"Get out! You thought you'd come finish him off huh?! Well I won't let you!"

Out? Out of where? Out of the darkness? But Harry didn't want to leave the peace it brought, it had a simplistic beauty he had only just begun to see, he couldn't leave it yet. Why didn't the other person get out? And leave him alone! Everybody was telling him to wake up, but he was already awake, at least in the darkness he was. Was there another place? One that didn't consist of burning lungs and loud beeps? Even if there was, it didn't seem all to appealing at that moment in time, especially with someone screaming at him.

"We have as much right to see him as you Weasley!"

What was a Weasley? Harry knew what a weasel was, that was an animal, maybe that was what they had meant to say? It seemed like the most logical suggestion, but it still didn't answer the question of who the people were. Surely they had names? Or did they just refer to each other as animals? The beeping continued, though this time at a much faster rate. An alarm sounded somewhere, but all Harry could focus on was the blackness, pressing in on him, smothering him with its weight.

"Harry! Harry you've got to wake up! You've got to! I can't lose you!"

Wake up? But he was awake! He had been awake all this time! Hadn't he? a hand curled around his own, the warmth causing him to shiver. But he didn't have anything in his hands! There was nothing in the darkness but him. What was happening? How could he feel something that wasn't there? A coldness swept through him as the darkness continued to bear down. He'd changed his mind, he didn't want to be there anymore! He wanted to be with the voices! The only question was how would he get there?

.

One more slice. Vernon Dursley pulled the knife downwards, being rewarded with the slackening of the ropes around him. Pushing himself up from the floor, he surveyed the wounds running along his wrists. You couldn't place a knife so close to the flesh without doing some damage. Running a hand over the raw skin where the rope had rubbed, he shifted uncomfortably in his unwashed clothes. Never before had Vernon gone without a shower for so long, and he shuddered when he thought of what was currently clinging to him. There was more than just sweat on those trousers.

Now that the hardest part was over, all he had to do was find his wife and son, and then he'd be able to escape and finish off a very important job. The empty corridors had a sort of eerie silence to them, and for the first time in a long time Vernon felt fear curl up in the pit of his stomach. Flicking his eyes left and right as he crept as silently as he could (not easy to do when you weigh more than a horse), he pushed open the door on the far right.

He found her curled up on the floor, handcuffs chaining her to the wall. Besides the obvious binds, she was obviously being much better cared for than Vernon was, and it angered him. She was as much a part of the freak's upbringing as he was. She looked up when he entered, a flicker of relief flashing through her eyes.

"Vernon! Vernon we have to get out of here! They took Dudley, and they only let me see him for less than an hour a day!"

They let her see his son? Vernon found his fists curling involuntarily, itching to punch something, or someone. How dare she see his son without him! Blowing out an angered breath through his nose, he backed up towards the door, hearing the distant sound of metal on metal. Did that mean they were back? Shaking his head, he turned towards the corridor. "I'm sorry Petunia, but I can get another family, I can't get another life." Without looking back, he edged towards freedom, ignoring the cries coming from the women he had once thought he loved. Family was expendable, life was not.

.

Another hour, another piece of hope chipped away. The clock on the wall had stopped working sometime between the last rounds, but Snape wouldn't report it, he liked the comfort it brought. It made it seem as though time had stood still, and as long as it stayed that way, there would be no future to worry about, no uncertainty. Of course the whole thought was stupid, clock or no clock Harry's time was running out. Breathing or not, it didn't mean he'd ever fully wake up, and as much as he hated to admit it, Snape was beginning to think it would be for the best if his son stayed sleeping. Those green eyes that had caused so much trouble since he first laid eyes on them were now dull and empty, even the penlight they used to gain a reaction couldn't bring anything from them. That always scared him, the way they pulled at Harry's eyelids, almost as if he wasn't really a person at all, but some kind of doll.

It felt that way now, with translucent skin and porcelain bones. What little muscle the boy had at the beginning of his treatment had melted away, leaving behind nothing but the overstretched flesh covering every inch of him. Limbs stuck out like withered branches, his head still void of any covering, not even the tiniest amount of fuzz had grown there. He was almost like a tree in winter. No leaves left to cover him, branches tired and worn. If anybody had asked Snape what he wanted the most for his child, he wouldn't hesitate to say that what he wanted more than anything was for Harry to be free from pain, and disease, and suffering. Even if it meant the boy's overworked, aching heart had to stop beating.

To keep him alive like that wasn't any kinder than what that scum Vernon had done all those years. Prolonging the inevitable wasn't kind, or in his son's best interest. It was cruel and selfish. Whether he liked it or not, turning off the life support had been a step in the right direction, but even that hadn't stopped poor Harry from suffering day in and day out. Even his breathing was getting weaker, and Snape knew the best thing to do was sign a Do Not Resuscitate Order.

Yet every time he thought of going near that form, images of Lily surfaced in his mind. Those green orbs of beauty staring deep into his soul, not unlike Harry's. That women had made him promise to take care of her little boy, and he wouldn't, no couldn't let her down. Not again. But was letting him live in that condition really caring for him? He wouldn't be able to win either way. He knew he should do what's best for Harry, but Snape had always been a selfish person, and he wouldn't change his ways now. If Harry didn't survive then at least nobody could blame him for not trying to save the little guy.

Who was he kidding? Not a day goes by that he didn't think of how he could have saved his son if he had just paid a little more attention to the Lion instead of putting him down at every opportunity. There was nothing he could do now though but wait. Wait for one of two things to happen. Either way his life would never be the same. The only question was whether it would be better or worse? And to be totally honest, he really didn't want to know which would happen.

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A/N: Do you guys like? Or is it really bad? Hit review and let me know what you think! :)

Seeya when I next get round to writing another chapter!

nicholosaur :)


	42. Chapter 42: The Choice Is Simple

Disclaimer: Still don't own the Harry Potter universe! Curse you J.K Rowling!

I'd like to thank Kendra Dhyanna for taking the time to review, I'm glad you are liking the story :)

Also thank you to those who have joined our journey and have Followed and Favourited! You guys are amazing :)

On with the chapter!

* * *

If I don't cry, do you think I don't feel?

If I look away, it doesn't mean I don't see

And just because I want someone when I'm alone

Doesn't mean I'm helpless

That I can't stand on my own

How far can we go before we break?

How long can I wait?

How strong do you think I am?

How much can I take of this?

Am I a rock, or a rose, or a fist?

Or the breath at the end of a kiss?

How deep do you want to go?

Because I'll go there if I can

You make it harder than it has to be

How strong, how strong do you think I am?

Alexz Johnson - How Strong Do You Think I Am?

* * *

A whisper. That was all it was. A tiny voice in the dark, pleading with him, willing him to come back. Was it his own voice? Or someone else's? Harry knew he had a choice to make, a choice that despite all of the medical intervention so far, only he could make. That voice, those quiet spoken words, urged him to get out of there, to free himself. The louder, more obnoxious voice pushed him further into the blackness, reminding him of all the pain that would follow in the other world, the brighter world. Pain. It seemed to lessen the longer he spent floating in that strange place, and returning would more than likely bring it back full pelt. Could he handle that? If he stayed in the dark then he would be free of the pain, of the suffering that plagued his waking moments.

All he had ever known was hatred, and hurt, and the feeling of being unwanted, unloved. Even when he thought he'd found a home, someone had come and snatched it out from under him, leaving him cold and alone in a world with nobody but himself. But this world was a comfort, a refreshing change from the chaos that followed him blindly no matter what. If he desired, he could just give all of the painful memories up, could live in bliss for the remainder of his life. No more death, or suffering, just peace. Most people wished for that on a daily basis, and there it was at his fingertips. All he had to do was give in to the shouted words, the thundering in his head that barely ever stopped. Could he really do it though? Let go of everything to be happy? The choice would only every be his, nobody could decide for him. They could prolong it, give him more time to make a decision by shoving tubes down his throat, and restarting his heart every time it stopped. But eventually that too would become impossible, and then it would be all on him to chose what he wished to happen to his life.

For most of the time, he had been leaning towards the latter option, the option of just giving in to the voice. That was until the new voice had come along. The small voice that sounded not unlike his mother's had. That voice came and went in intervalls, and as it left he always heard the swish of air being blown through a door, and a promise that it would be back soon. He liked that voice, the way it always came back to him, no matter what the other voice was doing. It was captivating, always there when he needed it the most. Recently it had been coming more often, with more urgency. It was at these moments that he tried to reach out for it, but it always left before he could get a firm grasp, before he could pull himself out.

"Harry it's me, it's Annessa, please wake up!"

Annessa? He knew that name! She was... Memories flooded back, of the dance, all those group therapy meetings, and her recent diagnosis. She was dying! How could Harry have been so blind? He had to wake up! He had to say goodbye! He had been so selfish, only thinking about himself while she was wasting away right next to him! He had a choice. He could get better. But Annessa? She was beyond saving, nobody, not even herself, could pull her out now. Her entire body was toxic. Her own cells were rebelling against her, killing her slowly but surely, dragging out her suffering in anyway it could. She would never grow up, never get married, or have children. Harry could. He would possibly one day look down at a child, and maybe even a grandchild with pride and love, knowing that he had helped create such an innocent being. Annessa would never be so lucky. One day he may be able to hold a woman close, to love her as he still loved that girl beside him, the girl that had been there since that day in isolation, the girl that never left his side despite everything that had happened.

If Harry gave into the darkness, who would carry on her legacy? Who would tell her story? He had the choice to make things right, not only for himself, but for her too. And what about all those people counting on him to save the wizarding world? He couldn't walk away when so much was riding on him! Maybe when he was older, and a lot wiser, he'd be able to face the darkness again and give into the loud voice. But now was not that time, and he knew it wouldn't be anytime soon. So the next time those soft spoken words came his way, he would cling on for dear life. He had to. There was no other way.

.

Petunia Dursley stared at the door for the longest time, her eyes pricking with tears as what her husband said replayed through her mind. She had given up everything for that man. Even her sister had to be thrown from her life in order to make him happy, and now he was just walking away as if nothing had ever happened. It was his fault they were in that mess in the first place. Okay, so she was partly to blame as well. She could've stopped him from hurting Harry, but then he'd have turned on her and Dudley instead. And in all honesty, Vernon scared her more than she liked to admit.

The bruises on Harry were easy enough to lie about, kids that age were generally more bruisable as they were always running around and bumping into things, more so with boys. But the bruises he had left on her where much harder to explain away, and when he turned on Dudley that first time, she had felt her heart shatter, especially as he sobbed in his crib that night. Leaving had never been an option, Vernon had too many people held under his thumb. So what else could she have done but gone along with every sick twisted thing he did to her nephew in the hopes that he wouldn't turn on his own flesh and blood? If he was hurting Harry, as bad as it sounded, at least he wasn't touching Dudley.

It was stupid now, to think of all her reasons for not protecting that little boy when he needed her the most. Every cry went unanswered, every tear dried itself. All so she could appease him without giving up her own child. She was ashamed to admit that thoughts of killing Harry had crossed her mind, though as fleeting as they were, so that Vernon could be 'cured' of his urges and impulses. If she got rid of his toy, surely he'd have to stop playing? But she knew he wouldn't stop, and if Harry wasn't there, Dudley would get the brunt of his anger, of his rage, of his fantasies.

And when Harry had gone off to school, she felt her heart plummet as she would hear Dudley's cries in the night, see those bruises show up on his arms, the finger marks around his neck. Not only had she failed to protect her nephew, in doing so she had also failed her son. Dudley deserved a normal life, a happy life, one free from abuse and torment. She would never be able to give him that life, not with the weight of guilt crushing down on her. So she would give him up, she would let them take him away from the life he knew. She would let him live.

.

He was almost free! Just a few more steps and he'd be out of that damn warehouse and into the night. Who cares if he left behind the extra baggage that were his family? He didn't necessarily need them where he was going. Any woman would do. All he'd have to do was make her obey him, make her faithful, just as Petunia had been. Heaving open the door, he cringed at the groaning, scraping sound it created as it strained on it's hinges. Just a few more steps! Blowing out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding, he took another cautious stride. It was now or never!

"Going somewhere?"

His heart stopped as he felt a hand trail lightly over his shoulder, a dark chuckle filling his ears. He was so close!

"I saw what you did to your wife." The hands tightened near Vernon's neck. "Everything you did to her! And that son of yours! So now I'm going to make you extra sorry. Because if there is one thing I hate more than child abusers, it's people that use their own children against their other parent." The man squeezed down hard, his eyes dark and cold. "I hope you've said your prayers little piggy, you're going to need all the help you get where you're going."

* * *

A/N: This chapter seems to have a lot of rambling so I do apologise! Leave a review to let me know how it was :)

I shall see you all again very soon! Possibly tomorrow, or the day after!

Have a nice Easter, nicholosaur :)


	43. Chapter 43: A Dagger To The Heart

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not, and never will be mine!

Thank you once again to Kendra Dhyanna for taking the time to review! You rock! :D

I'd also like to welcome the new Followers and Favouriters! And any new readers, your support is greatly appreciated! :)

* * *

I know he's living in hell every single day

And so I ask

Oh god is there some way for me to take his place?

And when they say it's all touch and go

I wish I could make it go away

But still you say

Will you think that you're all alone when no one's there to hold your hand?

When all you know seems so far away

And everything is temporary, rest your head

I'm permanent

I'm permanent

Is the moment where I look you in the eye?

Forgive my promise that you'll never see me cry

David Cook - Permanent

* * *

A single twitch. A hand reaching out, gripping hold of life anyway it could. Snape didn't even notice it at first, his eyes fixed on the chart hung on the end of the bed. He knew every single note off by heart, every vital sign check monitored, every fluctuation in temperature. Medical records were rarely even necessary any more when conversing with Harry's doctors, Snape could recite every single detail ever recorded. The second time it came, he felt the coldness of the boy's hand in his own, and he very nearly yelped in fright. Their hands hadn't been touching a moment ago.

"Harry? Harry can you hear me?" Only the whir of the machines greeted him, and his heart sank once more. It had been way too much to hope for. Yet not a minute later it was back, that tiny jerk of his son's fingers, of a soul breaking free of its binds. Slamming his fist against the call button, Snape held his breath as the movements grew stronger, faster, more manic. Was that normal? A nurse stalked into the room with as much enthusiasm as a death row inmate, her eyes sweeping over Snape as if he was the scum of the earth. Did he really look that bad? Okay so he hadn't showered in a few days, and the last time he shaved was a very distant memory, but surely he still looked a tiny bit presentable?

"What is it? There's a mountain of paperwork to be done and I'm not here to run after every single thing that appears wrong with your vegetable of a child."

Vegetable? How dare she! Harry deserved so much more respect than that, especially from a person who's job it was to treat him. "His hand moved." The eyeroll he received told him she was clearly in no mood to deal with what she believed to be an over bearing parent. What happened to the normal nurses? They were much more polite, and actually took into account the feelings of parents going through what was likely the worst experience in their lives.

"It's probably just a muscle spasm due to damage to his brain, nothing to worry about."

The way she said it so calmly made Snape want to punch something. His son may have brain damage and she was talking about it like he'd just grazed his knee, or gotten a paper cut. The doctor had gone over the likelihood of their being lasting damage, but those words had been kind and reassuring. These words were not. He watched helplessly as she stalked back out the door without even checking to see if there was any improvement, how on earth did she manage to get a job as a nurse? Catching the name on her tag, he made a mental note of it. He would definitely be reporting her. Someone was going to pay.

.

It had been far too long since Ron had plucked up the courage to visit his best friend. Even now, hovering by the door as Snape slept, his head resting inches from Harry's jerking hand, Ron couldn't bring himself to enter the room. There was nothing he could for the wisp of a boy lying immobile in that bed, not even talking to him seemed to help. Keeping a watch by the door was the best he could manage, that way he had a quick escape when the potions master was roused from his sleep by the shift change. Ron's mother was there somewhere, probably striking up a conversation with some poor nurse that had much better things to do. Seeing Harry so sick always upset her more than she liked to admit, she didn't want Ron to see her in such a state. He felt a stab of guilt every time he thought of his mother.

He'd been pushing her away more and more these past few weeks, burying himself in tasks she couldn't participate in. Did he think it was just him that was miserable? She was hurting too, and though Ron hated to admit it, she completely understood what he was going through. His pride always seemed to get in the way of asking for help though, even when said help was offered to him on a silver platter with no catch. Breathing out a deep sigh, he slowly shook his head, his eyes never leaving that pale, rakethin body. It wasn't right that someone had intentionally done this to his mate. It made it ten times worse when he thought of the progress Harry was making before this major setback. He was almost ready to leave the hospital, to go home. Now look at him. Life just wasn't fair!

.

Vernon Dursley blinked blindly at the harsh sunlight burning his corneas, wracking his brain for any inkling to what had happened over the past few days. He remembered visiting Dudley in the night, and then joining his wife in bed, but everything after that was just a jumble of pictures that made no sense. Pain shot through his body with every movement he tried to make, but every single cry caught in his throat. He was a man, not a crying child. Looking down at his blood stained trousers, he screamed internally, hoping he was wrong for a change. Between the amount of blood and the almost intolerable pain, there could really be only one explanation, and he didn't like what it was. Someone, some sick freak, had stolen his manhood!

He was going to find them, and he was going to make them pay in ways they could never imagine. That was when he got home. Where were his men anyway? Shouldn't they have protected him from this? Something would definitely be done about that! Screwing up his eyes in agony, he felt his spirits lift as he heard sirens. Was that the police coming to take him home? Cracking open one eye, he saw an officer he had never seen before exchange a few words on a walkie-talkie before stalking forward, his feet crunching against the gravel.

"Vernon Dursley? You are under arrest for child endangerment, abuse and neglect, and the possesion and distribution of child pornography."

.

It was the panicked beeps of the machines that tore Snape from his slumber in the small hours of the morning just in time to see his son shaking violently in front of him, sending shockwaves through his own system. Doctors swarmed around the bed like angry wasps, shouting out orders Snape couldn't understand. One word stood out through the jumble of medical language though, surgery. Through the entire treatment, he had taken comfort in the knowledge that Harry wouldn't have to have life-threatening surgery to remove a tumor like some of the other children in the hospital did. Every day he'd see a mother or father pacing the corridors, clutching soft toys or handheld games, their tear streaked faces alternating between watching the doors and the clock. Snape never even dreamed he'd have to go through that, with Harry's diagnosis there was no need for any type of surgery, well there wasn't until now.

Without even a word thrown Snape's way, Harry was hooked up to a handheld heart monitor, his bed being wheeled from the room. He ran to keep up, his eyes never leaving the rapid chest movements of his son. What was going on? Surely they had enough time to stop and tell him exactly what was happening? At least half a dozen doctors and nurses squeezed into the lift, still crowding around the bed, blocking Snape from reaching his child. Every question was blocked out as they trundled towards the MRI, a room Snape had only had the pleasure of viewing a handful of times. Through out the entire procedure, nobody bothered to tell him anything, and his frustration was quickly dissolving into panic. Why was nobody speaking to him?

"Mr Snape?"

Snapping his head up at the voice, he scrubbed a hand across his face. "Please tell me you're here to explain what the hell is going on with my son?!"

The woman nodded, motioning to the cushioned seats across the hall. "We believe Harry's seizure was caused by cerebral edema." Seeing the confusion plastered across his face, she offered a small smile. "Harry has swelling in his brain which can be life-threatening if it isn't treated." She paused briefly to allow him to soak up the information. "As none of the drugs Harry is on have had any effect, in order to decrease the swelling, we need to perform a Decompressive Craniectomy, which is basically removing part of the skull to allow the brain to expand without injury, it's a last resort surgery but I'm afraid there is no other option at this point." A consent form was thrust under Snape's nose. "If you'll just sign here."

.

He wanted his mother. Dudley Dursley sat in an unfamiliar waiting room, his sleeve wet from a mixture of tears and snot, wishing more than anything he was back at home. The doctor had made him take his clothes off, and though she told him they could stop anytime he got scared, she hadn't listened when he begged her to let him go home. They told im he couldn't go home anymore because it wasn't safe, and that he'd be going to a new home, with parents that wouldn't hurt him like his father had. How they knew about his father was beyond him. He hadn't told anyone, just as his father had made him promise. Unless Harry had said something. Dudley had always admired his cousin's resilience when it came to things like that. Harry always managed to get back up no matter what was dished out to him, something Dudley couldn't claim to do.

When they were younger, he had actually tried to play with his cousin and share his toys. But every attempt was met with painful reminders from his father that good boys didn't play with freaks, and soon he learned that pushing his cousin around earned him the praise he craved from his father. Now he wished he had Harry with him to tell him it would be alright, the way he used to whenever Dudley was on the receiving end of his father's temper. Even broken bones wouldn't stop his cousin from reassuring him that all would be forgotten by the morning, especially if he stayed out of the way. Sitting there, on the hard plastic chairs that numbed your limbs after approximately five minutes of perching on them, he wept for the relationship he once had with the boy he hadn't seen in a year. His mother obviously didn't care all that much about him. But Harry? Harry had always cared. His mother could wait. Dudley just wanted Harry.

.

Every minute that scraped by on the clock was torture. Snape paced backwards and forwards along the narrow corridor, a cup of coffee that had long since gone cold clutched in his hand. Annessa had come down a few hours ago, and it had taken two nurses to cart her back up the stairs, kicking and screaming with all her might. Normally he would have insisted she stay, but he couldn't bear the thought of her seeing him so broken down. Besides, she needed her rest, something she wouldn't get down there. Breathing deeply to keep the torrent of tears at bay, he massaged his aching temple. The summer was almost over, and then most of the children would be going back to Hogwarts for another year. It hurt more than he liked to admit that Harry wouldn't be one of them, wouldn't be joining his friends on the train on the first of September as he usually did.

A student nurse stumbled from the operating theatre with blood streaked clothes, his eyes glazed over, his hands shaking violently. A doctor whisked him off towards the staff room, with him reciting stories of complications and blood, and that was all it took to break Snape's composure. Crumbling to his feet as the coffee cup shattered on the ground, he sobbed into his knees, the sound vibrating off the walls and filling the corridor. He couldn't lose his son! Harry and Anessa were the only things in his life that mattered! He was already losing Annessa, he couldn't lose Harry too! Tearing at his hair with far too much force, he let out a heart wrenching scream which carried far along the hallways, burrowing into the hearts of every nurse, every doctor, every person that had ever had the pleasure of meeting Harry. He couldn't lose his son! He just couldn't! There was only one thing he knew for certain. He wasn't going anywhere, no matter what anybody said. He was permanent.

* * *

A/N: Let me know what you think in the reviews :) I'd be happy to fix anything that doesn't seem right, or add something you want to see within reason ;)

The next chapter will be up soon!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	44. Chapter 44:A New Doctor, A New diagnosis

Disclaimer: ...

Thank you to Kendra Dhyanna and potterandplumfan for taking the time to review, it is greatly appreciated :)

Welcome to any new people on this journey! :)

On with the story!

* * *

Lying next to you

Wishing I could disappear

Let you fall asleep

And vanish out into thin air

It's the elephant in the room

And we pretend that we don't see it

It's the avalanche that looms above our heads

And we don't believe it

Trying to be perfect

Trying not to let you down

Honesty is honestly the hardest thing for me right now

While the floors underneath our feet are crumbling

The walls we built together tumbling

I still stand here holding up the roof

Cause it's easier than telling the truth

Kris Allen - The Truth

* * *

There are certain things in life you just know. If two policemen turn up at your door in the middle of the night, you know something bad has happened. If you get called in for a meeting with the headmaster of your child's school, you know there's something wrong. When Snape saw a doctor he had never spoken to before, a doctor that visited children with cancer in their brain, stride towards him, MRI results tucked under one arm, he definitely knew something wasn't right.

Every single doctor Harry came in contact with had something to do with blood. There where two main ones, Doctor Manard the Haematologist and Doctor Hayward the Paediatric Oncologist. So to see this new doctor show up scared the hell out of him. Was Harry alright? Did something go wrong in surgery? The questions filled Snape's mouth like cotton wool, sticking to his throat as the man approached.

"Mr Snape? I am Doctor Henry Whittker, a neurologist here at the hospital. I appreciate that it's been a long day, and I know you're anxious to get back to your son, so I'll make this as quick and pain free as possible."

Whittker motioned to the empty staff room, dropping the results on the table. "Before you ask, the operation was a success, Harry will be wheeled up to recovery shortly where he'll be monitored twenty-four-seven for the next few days." Seeing the relief in Snape's eyes, he quickly continued. "However the MRI also picked up something other than swelling." Flipping open the folder, her arranged the pictures along the table, holding one up to the light. "The swelling was not due to lack of oxygen as we had originally assumed, at least not entirely. Harry has a collection of tumours in his brain which have been wreaking havoc on his body."

It always hurt to deliver such heartbreaking news to families, more-so when it was someone like Snape, who's son was amid a battle for his life with Leukaemia. It's different for parents coming in with no knowledge of the grueling process ahead of them, they can take it one day at a time. But for the parents that know everything there is to come, know every single test and treatment that will twist and claw at their child's body until it becomes almost unrecognisable, they're the one's that suffer the most.

"Are they... You know?" Snape's voice cracked as he clutched the table top much to hard, the fragile wood splintering slightly. His son was supposed to be getting better! When he had first been admitted they confessed that the brain scan had been impeccable, and it would be almost impossible for anything to ever show up there, especially as the cancer had never even reached his brain stem. Clearly they had been wrong.

"Malignant? I'm afraid so. The surgeon removed what he could, but right now radiation and chemotherapy are the best option, at least until he gains enough strength to face another operation." Sighing softly as he surveyed the man in front of him, Whittker offered him a sad smile. "I'll be overseeing his treatment so if you need anything, anything at all, night or day, just give me a call."

Snape held the card between his fingertips as if it was made of diamond, his eyes damp with fresh tears. He wouldn't allow himself to break down, not in front of the man that would be around Harry practically nonstop for the foreseeable future. "Can I go see him now?"

Whittker nodded, gathering up the results and storing them back in the paper folder. "Of course." Holding open the door, he watched the man jog down the corridor towards the lift, repeatedly smashing the button. As the doors slid shut, Whittker felt his own tear drip onto his cheek. "I'm sorry Mr Snape, I'm so sorry."

.

All Harry could hear was the constant beep and whir of many different machines, all acting in some kind of strange harmony, drilling deep inside his skull. The lights were way too bright, burning at his eyeballs as he twisted his head to try and get rid of the pain. Letting out a groan, he felt something move beside him. A painful cough forced it's way from his lungs, growing more violent as he realised he could not breath properly. Why was that damn tube back in his throat?!

"Harry? Harry can you hear me?"

Moaning again, he flicked his eyes towards the voice, blinking rapidly. Why weren't they turning down the lights? He was burning here! Questions bubbled in his chest, unanswerable due to the machine forcing air into his lungs. Did they like rendering him unable to speak? A blurred object reached above him, pressing something on the wall. Whatever it was somehow summoned a bunch of people, each entering the room with a small blast of air.

"Good evening young man, you've given everybody quite a scare, especially your dad."

Who was that person? Harry had heard the voice before, but he didn't have a name to put to it. Another object loomed over his face, pressing something onto his nose. Suddenly the room became clear, a little too clear. The tear stained face of his father came into view, a strange moustache and beard combination styling his face. What had happened?

"We'll be able to take you off the ventilator soon, and Nurse Joy will get you some pain medication for that headache of yours."

How did he know about that? Could he read minds? Harry's eyelids drooped tiredly, his vision swimming. He felt like he hadn't slept in days. Someone gently shook his shoulder, causing him to let out another moan. Why couldn't they just let him sleep?

"We'll leave you to rest for a while Harry, you must keep up your strength for treatment."

Mentally rolling his eyes, he let sleep overcome him. He could deal with treatment later.

.

What was he going to do? On one hand, Snape couldn't be happier that his son had finally woken from his coma, but at the same time he felt his stomach curdle when he thought of everything Harry would have to go through now he was awake. Radiation and surgery, more chemo. The kid was a walking disaster, well not walking at the minute. It was almost as if some higher authority had a grudge against the boy. So far he'd been through more than most of the patients at the hospital, and he hadn't been in there for nearly as long some of them. Did the hospital give out an award for the worst luck? Because Harry would definitely win it hands down. What Snape wouldn't give to trade places with his son, to take some of the burden, some of the weight.

Instead all he could do was watch. Watch as his son's body literally ate away at itself, multiplying rapidly in an uncontrollable fashion, defying any attempt to stop it. His case was bad enough to begin with. Place the tumors on top and you have a medical nightmare.

They could cure the Leukaemia only to have the tumours kill him, or cut out all of the tumours and have the Leukaemia invade every last bit of his body. It was almost like they were having a race, seeing which one could cause the most damage in the least amount of time. So far the Leukaemia seemed to be winning, but it was still early days for the tumours, which scared Snape a lot more than the Leukaemia.

Harry's brain was already under immense pressure. There was no telling what would happen, especially when they did the surgeries. It was still too early to even tell whether Harry had suffered any brain damage, or what the extent of the damage was. Would he still be able to walk? Or talk? Or feed himself? There were too many unanswered questions, too many uncertainties. Nobody could answer any of them, not yet anyway. How would Harry take the new diagnosis? That was something he hadn't thought about until now.

So far the little guy had taken everything in stride, making it all look so easy. But there's only so much one person can handle before they start falling apart at the seams. By then it's normally too late to try and mend the broken fabric, no matter how hard you try. Was that what was going to happen to Harry? Only time would tell. And time was moving way too fast for him to handle.

* * *

A/N: Another chapter finished! You guys like? Let me know with a review :)

I'll try to get the next chapter done by tomorrow!

Seeya next post, nicholosaur :)


	45. Chapter 45: Failure As A Father

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling still owns Harry Potter!

I would like to take this time to thank LittleMissChatterbox2009, Kendra Dhyanna and SDCG for reviewing :)

I'd also like to welcome all the new people to our little community :) I hope you enjoy our journey!

* * *

Can you feel this? the walls are closing

Slipping further from the hand we're holding

Feel the footsteps inching closer

Still so far away

It's 2 AM but I can't sleep

I'm running circles in my head around a restless dream

I know I'm not the person that I used to be

But I still can't shake this

No I can't take this

Paradise Fears - Home

* * *

He wanted to go home. His new foster parents were nice enough, even if they did cut down on the amount of food he was allowed to eat. They hugged him, and bought him video games. But Dudley still felt more alone than ever in that new house, with the foreign walls and strangers bed. His mother had called once, telling him that she was sorry, telling him goodbye.

Mary, his foster mother, had patted him on the shoulder afterwards, saying it was for the best. What did she know? She'd never witnessed what happened in that house behind closed doors. When Vernon drank too much, and both Dudley and Harry cowered in the small space under the stairs while his mother took every single blow, every single sickening slap. Harry often intervened before long, motioning for Dudley to keep quiet while he crawled along into the kitchen and gave Petunia the respite she needed, even if it meant he had to keep Vernon occupied. Dudley would never have that courage, that strength. Hell, he couldn't even stay at the foster home without bawling his eyes out like a baby for twenty minutes straight.

Mary had promised she would take him to see Harry as soon as it was possible, apparently there was something wrong with him. Dudley hated not being kept in the loop of information, who did they think he would tell? It wasn't like he had any friends. Nobody talked to the strange overweight foster kid that had suddenly appeared in the neighbourhood one night. Piers had stopped talking to him the night he was taken from home, it wasn't seen as cool to be friends with a kid that let his father abuse him.

It was all over the news, stories of himself and Harry, their old school pictures somehow making it in the headlines. Though they tried to shield him the best they could by taking all of the newspapers and only playing the news when he was safely tucked up in bed, Dudley wasn't blind to what was happening. Everywhere he went pitying glances followed, and the occasional reporter would approach him in the street, only to be sternly sent away by Mary or Randal. Why couldn't he just have a normal life? Like all of the other children at school? The one's that wrote essays about how they got to go to Theme Parks and Safari's during the summer holidays. At least his own essay wouldn't be boring this year.

Rolling over onto his stomach, he glanced over at the bedside clock, wondering what his cousin was doing at this exact moment. Was Harry happy? And safe with a family that loved him? Or did they put him somewhere cold and horrendous like all of those stories his father told? Dudley had to see him! He had to make sure he was okay! He had to say goodbye!

.

"Okay Harry, hold up your left hand for me and give it a wave."

Snape watched with bleary eyes as Doctor Whittker performed the same tests over and over again with much more patience than he would have. Harry was still on the ventilator, so they couldn't perform many of the tests they needed to, instead they just repeated the same few, and it was beginning to really grate on Snape's nerves. Clearly his son could distinguish his left from his right, that had been established hours ago, so he really had no idea why they had to keep making sure. Other than the small detail that his right hand seemed to be less mobile than his left, there was no indicators that there was anything wrong. At least none that Whittker had cared to share.

"Good, now I'm going to throw this ball to you, I want you to catch it and throw it back."

The foam ball soared towards the teen, and one of two things happened. Harry's right arm jerked out readily to catch it, and it slammed straight into his open palm, dropping onto the bed. Snape reached out to take hold of it, only to be told to stay where he was, Harry had to get it himself. Beads of sweat formed on the boy's forehead as he attempted to grip the object, failing miserably with every try. His hand shook uncontrollably, as it had during those first hours before they had discovered the swelling, countless jerky movements that terrified Snape.

"Alright Harry, it's alright, we'll try again later."

How could Whittker act so calm, so indifferent to the fact that Harry couldn't perform such a simple task. Did this confirm that he had brain damage? Scrubbing a hand over his face as Whittker said goodbye, he followed the doctor from the room, uttering a halfhearted excuse to Harry. "Why can't he pick up the ball? Why can't he do a task a baby could do?"

Whittker shook his head, a small smile on his lips. "Harry has been through a lot Mr Snape, his brain has suffered an incredible beating and it needs time to recuperate. This isn't something he can just bounce back from, it's going to take days, maybe even weeks, and a lot of effort on his part. Just be patient, and let him know you're with him no matter what."

Watching as he strode the corridor, Snape couldn't help but feel as though he had failed his duty as a parent. Of course it wouldn't be an overnight thing, especially after everything that had happened. It was stupid to think it would be. He loved his son more than words could say, so why did he wish it was someone else's child lying in that hospital? Why did he wish it was somebody else's problem? Why did he wish at all?

.

Seven. That was the number of times a nurse had been in Harry's room in the past hour, checking and rechecking every single piece of equipment as if it had somehow changed drastically without them being alerted. A light was shined into his eyes, the thing around his head examined, and that damn respirator fiddled with. They then muttered something about chemo, pumped him full of countless medicines that made him feel like he was floating, and then left, taking with them another stack of numbers to put in his file.

Annessa came down once, giving all the latest gossip about every single doctor and nurse she had come in contact with. Nurse Joy had apparently been caught in the cleaning cupboard with a medical student, and had been forced to clean all of the bedpans and collect all of the sick bowls, Harry would have laughed for hours if the tube allowed it. She looked thin, dangerously so, and huge rings dominated her eyes. Was that how he looked? Like a gust of wind would snap him in half? No wonder Snape looked so panicked all of the time.

"Morning sunshine, hows my favourite patient?"

Miss Ellen, the physiotherapist that always showed up at half past the hour twice a day, carrying random items that Harry couldn't use in his current state, and wouldn't want to use regardless. That same question was asked each time, though he had no way of answering it, his limbs would be tortured until they burned, and then she'd go off on her merry way to attack some other poor soul. She seemed to be focusing more on his arms today, and every so often her eyes would flick up to his head, a haunted look in them, before resuming their original position on his wrists. Did she know something he didn't?

Snape had said he'd been in a coma for a while, and that was why everybody had been so worried. But that didn't explain why he had a brain doctor, or why he had something wrapped around his head that the nurses loved to fiddle with. Annessa had said she heard Whittker talking about surgery to another doctor, was that about him? Was Snape so worried because of that? Not knowing frustrated Harry more than being stuck in the bed. He wanted to know what was going on! Why wouldn't they tell him?! It couldn't be that bad, right?

.

She had to see him. Molly Weasley stared at the fireplace, her hand hovering over the floo powder. Harry had woken up, and though Snape had refused to allow anyone to visit while the child was so fragile, Molly just had to see him, had to see for herself that he was okay. It had been so long since the last time she laid eyes on him, that time they had said goodbye when everybody thought all hope had been lost. Ron was hopeless when it came to giving updates, he merely shrugged. The only way she would get peace of mind was if she actually saw him in the flesh, regardless of what Snape said, one little visit wouldn't do any harm.

Besides she had a right to visit, Harry was like a son to her. She had been there through out all of his treatment, and Snape be damned if he thought she would walk away so easily now. There was no way on this earth that Molly Weasley would give in, especially not when it concerned one of her own. Harry had to have been so scared in that hospital room, and if Ron wasn't talking to her, she would just have to go and make him feel better. Maybe she could knit him a jumper? Or make some cake? That always cheered the twins up. Mind made up, she turned towards the kitchen. She would see her boy tonight.

* * *

A/N: I feel as though I've just been rambling on so I apologise! Let me know how bad it was with a review :)

I'm unsure when the next one will be up, though I am aiming for either tomorrow or the day after.

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	46. Chapter 46: Finding Out The Truth

Disclaimer: Nope!

Thank you to the new Favouriters and Followers, I humbly welcome you!

* * *

We hide behind the faces that we make to disguise

The things that we're ashamed of

And all the ugly things that make us close our eyes

They make us close our eyes

Why do we close our eyes?

We avoid the topics

We make the kids have secrets

When they are exposed

And everyone else knows

We'll say we never knew it

That they had a problem

'Cause if we would have known

We surely would have solved it

Nevertheless - Topics

* * *

He was free. The tube had finally been removed, much to the relief of everybody, especially Harry. Him and that respirator were becoming way too acquainted for his liking. It still hurt every time he breathed, exactly like the time he got that infection, but he'd take the pain over the tube any day. The only bad thing that came from it was he still couldn't speak, though that did have its perks, he didn't have to see the therapist while he was unable to speak with her.

Pushing himself up slightly, he cast a glance towards the sleeping form of his father, noticing how even in his unconscious state the lines of worry marred his face. Blinking the crust from his eyes, Harry brought a shaking hand to his face, swiping clumsily in a disorientated manner. Why wouldn't his limbs work properly for him? It was beginning to get rather frustrating. Catching sight of the notes at the end of his bed, he reached out towards the file, groaning quietly as his muscles screamed in protest.

"Let me help you with that."

Looking up guiltily, he felt the air rush from his mouth as his gaze met the warm one of Molly Weasley. Snape murmured anxiously in his sleep, reaching out and taking hold of Harry's right hand. It took a few seconds for Harry to register what had happened, despite the fact that he had caught the movement in the corner of his eye. What was happening to his brain?

"There you go sweetheart."

Gripping the file in a strange, awkward way, he dropped it down in front of him, using his thumb and forefinger to try and flip open the cover. Scanning the words, he attempted to decode the latest entries, squeezing his eyes shut against the blinding headache that assaulted his senses in a sudden, fierce motion. Nausea burrowed into his stomach, scratching at the latest meal that had gone through the nosetube. Shaking his head slowly, he watched as the words swam meaninglessly in front of him, pounding his fist against the blanket. Why couldn't he read the damn file?! Taking slow, deep breaths, he tried again, picking out two words from the mess of writing. 'Brain tumours.'

.

Snape jolted awake, his eyes falling straight to the teenager on the bed. "Harry? What's..." Snatching the file from the bed, he felt the glare of his son bear into him, how much had the boy read? "How did you get this?" A small cough made him whip up his head, anger bubbling up inside his chest as he caught sight of the redhead. "You gave him the file?!" How could she have been so idiotic? They had all been so careful to shelter the teen from the earth shattering news while he was still so fragile, and this women had, in a single thoughtless act, exposed him to the one piece of information that could break him.

"He was reaching for it, I just wanted to help."

Jerking his thumb towards the corridor, he stormed from the room, rounding on the woman as the door closed behind her. "Do you have any idea what you've done?!" Molly opened her mouth in defense, but was instantly shushed by the furious voice of an extremely angry father. "Harry has just gone through the worst possible experience of his life! We were going to tell him when the time was right! When he'd had a chance to get over the trauma!"

"Severus I was ju-"

"Just go! And this time when I say stay away I mean it!"

.

When were they going to tell him? Did they really think they could keep such a big secret from him indefinitely? He had a right to know about what was growing in his head! It just wasn't fair! Hot tears of betrayal poured down his face, his breathing quick and uneven. Why did it have to happen to him? He had trusted his father! And all that had gotten him was lies.

"Harry I'm sorry, I know I should have told you but I didn't want to add unneeded stress to you're already fragile body."

Unneeded stress? He had growths in his brain! There was going to be stress whether they liked it or not, and not telling him had added way more than if they had just come clean. It wasn't so much the fact that they had kept it from him that made him so upset, but that Snape had gotten so worked up at him finding out. Was there something wrong with him knowing what was going on inside his own body? It would be different if there was actually some medical advantage to him not knowing, that he could handle. But there was no real reason expect he was 'fragile', which wasn't really a reason at all.

Just because he couldn't speak didn't mean he shouldn't be told how badly his body was rebelling against itself. Harry knew it would mean more tests and treatments, and definitely more time in the hospital. Clearly Snape knew that too, so why did he keep it from him? It didn't make any sense, and Harry really wanted to know the answer.

.

"Mum? Are you okay?"

Molly Weasley jumped up from her spot on the bathroom floor, feverishly wiping at her face to belatedly hide any evidence of her breakdown. She hadn't meant to upset Snape, all she wanted to do was see Harry, was that so bad? Nobody had said the file was out of bounds for the teenager, and he had been trying so hard to reach it. Did it make her a bad person that she had wanted to help a struggling child reach something that had hung at the end of his bed since he had arrived at the hospital? Any normal person would have done the same thing, so why had Snape freaked out so much about it? And what was written in the file that was just so terrible for Harry to see? Attempting to compose herself, she turned to her youngest boy, willing herself to smile. "I'm fine Ronald, just got a little distracted."

His eyes swept over her face, his hair falling untidily to his chin. "It's about Harry isn't it? You went to see him."

His voice wasn't accusing as she thought it would be, merely quizzical, as if he himself knew how hard it was to visit the teen. That hurt her, the knowledge that her fourteen year old had felt the pain she was in at that moment, the heartache of seeing such a young life get ripped apart piece by piece by his own cells. Ron had always been such a happy carefree boy, but all that had happened over the summer had obviously taken its toll. His eyes held a haunted look in them, dark circles dominating his previously flawless features. Clothes that once fitted now hung from limbs that fell limply at his side.

Had she been so caught up in her struggle to keep one child alive that she had neglected her own flesh and blood? When was the last time she had looked at Ron, truly looked at him, and seen just how bad it had become for him? Shame built up inside her as she failed to locate the answer. What sort of mother was she? Everybody had always said she was like a motherhen, constantly clucking after her kids. But when Ron had needed her the most, she had turned away, turned instead to the child that everybody knew needed attention. The signs were obvious in Harry, he had an illness that presented itself on the inside of his body, and a cure that wreaked havoc on the outside.

Ron's symptoms were much more subtle, much more hidden. Yet the fact still remained that if she had been paying even the tiniest amount of attention, she would have noticed how he rarely ever talked to the family anymore, and his presence at the dinner table was almost non-existent. He was slowly killing himself, with guilt or just fear she didn't know. All that was certain was that while everybody had been so focused on the boy with cancer, they had neglected the other people in Harry's life, the one's that would spend day in and day out with the teen, the one's that knew almost everything about him.

Did Ron feel guilty about not noticing the signs of Harry's abuse? Of not realising sooner that something was going on? They were all at fault for turning a blind eye on what could so easily have been prevented, but judging from the poor state of her little boy, he clearly didn't follow the same thought pattern. How could she have been so blind? So thoughtless? Pain shot through her chest as she had a sudden thought. There was always the possibility that she would lose one child, Harry was tightroping on the tip of life. But it had never occurred to her that she may lose another, that through her negligence another child may lose their life. If she lost one, the other would soon follow, and it would be all her fault.

* * *

A/N: This was the result of lack of sleep and about nine episodes of CSI at half three in the morning! I hope you found it interesting, let me know in the reviews :)

If any thing seems odd or not right, or you want anything added just let me know, I'm open to pretty much anything.

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	47. Chapter 47: Therapy?

Disclaimer: Unfortunately I am not J.K Rowling and therefore do not own Harry Potter

I would like to thank the new people that Followed and Favourited the story! Your support is welcomed with open arms! We're now on over 100 Followers! :)

Let me know what you guys think! I need to know whether these chapters are boring you or not! :)

Onwards!

* * *

Do you ever feel like breaking down?

Do you ever feel out of place?

Like somehow you just don't belong

And no one understands you?

Do you ever wanna run away?

Do you lock yourself in your room?

With the radio on turned up so loud

That no one hears you're screaming?

No, you don't know what it's like

When nothing feels all right

You don't know what it's like

To be like me

Simple Plan - Welcome To My Life

* * *

Therapy? That was his mother's genius idea? She had officially lost her mind. Ron wasn't sick! He didn't need to see a shrink, there was absolutely nothing wrong with him! So what if he hadn't been eating much, food was the only thing he could really control in his swirling world. He could understand why Harry would need therapy, his bestmate had been through more than anyone else he knew, but Ron was perfectly fine. No illness. No injury.

Therapy was for people that couldn't help themselves, and Ron Weasley was doing just great on his own. Was this his mother's way of getting back at him for blowing her off? For not notifying her of Harry's condition? It was stupid! And he hated her! It was his life, she had no say in what he did! Throwing his book against the wall in anger, he let out a low growl of frustration. Why couldn't she just leave him alone?!

"Ronald? Is everything alright in there?"

Glaring at the door, he noticed the untouched plate of food, quickly throwing the sandwich beneath his bed before the woman entered. Maybe if it looked like he was eating she wouldn't force him to go talk to a stranger who knew less about him than even the first years did? Taking a deep breath as the door slowly creaked open, he flopped down onto his bed, grabbing the closest book to him, which happened to be that damn depression book his father had left in his room last night. What was with this family and thinking there was something wrong with him?

"I came to bring up your dessert." Her eyes strayed to the empty plate on his desk, relief shining in them as she took in the spot where the sandwich used to lay. "Miss Daniels would like to meet you in three days, that was the earliest opening."

He didn't really care about Miss Daniels or her overly booked schedule. He wasn't going to therapy, and nothing anybody could do would change that. He would rather die than subject himself to that.

.

"Afternoon sunshine, how's my favourite patient?"

Physio was beginning to annoy the hell out of Harry, and he still had a long way to go before he would be free from Miss Ellen. And then there was her sidekick Spongy, the speech therapist that loved to poke and prod at his throat and make the same babbling noises his old neighbour's baby made. Apparently she wanted him to try and copy her, he wasn't as willing. Pulling his arm back from the woman that always insisted on manhandling him, he nodded towards the glass of water on the table, rolling his eyes as Spongy held up her hand in that over-enthusiastic way Harry hated so much.

"You need to ask for it young man, you won't get very far without your voice in the world."

How did she explain deaf people then? Or mutes? They did pretty well considering they couldn't speak too well, if at all. Jerking his head even harder, he clenched his teeth together, instantly regretting it when searing pain shot through his brain. Damn brain tumours! Lurching forward, he managed to unceremoniously dispel his lunch all over Spongy's feet, which despite the circumstances did make him laugh. At least it was never dull at the hospital.

.

There were over a dozen websites on the internet giving information about conditions such as Harry's, but none of them gave Snape what he needed. He knew all there was to know about the Leukaemia invading his son's body, and the tumours were easy enough to find out about, yet no matter what site he went on, there was nothing about the chances of a child surviving both. The woman behind the counter in the canteen had grown accustomed to the man perching over that screen of his, typing furiously while downing cup after cup of coffee.

Snape didn't even need to ask for another cup now, one was instantly supplied as soon as he was done with the previous one. Money exchanged hands upon his entering, enough to cover over thirty cups a day, and any that wasn't used up ended up in the tip jar, so it was a win win situation for the both of them. Of course there was cheaper ways to get coffee, but the atmosphere in the canteen was much more lively than the parents room on Harry's ward, and nobody tended to get up in your business.

A child darted past the table, a bandage wrapped around his head. Snape couldn't help but compare the similarities of the young child to Harry, it was almost unnerving. Both boys had the same headwear, complete with glasses and small bruises around the mouth from the tape holding the respirator in place being ripped off non too gently, probably by the same nurse that rough-housed Harry. The same type of tube was also pumping food into their bodies. It was like that child was a young mirror image of Harry, and it was freaking Snape out.

Downing the last swirl of his coffee, he slammed the lid down on the laptop, running a hand through his untamed hair. It would soon be dinner time up on the wards, and they were hopefully transitioning Harry onto orally fed liquid foods today, tomato soup was apparently on the menu. Depositing the mug onto the cart by the door, he lifted a hand to the woman, hurrying away from the ghost that was running around the room. Some things are best left alone. And Harry's past appeared to be one of them.

.

It was Pig who reminded Ron of the little problem collecting dust beneath his bed, luckily owl's are apparently fond of corned-beef sandwiches and chocolate muffins, who'd have known? Balling the muffin case up in his hand, he tossed back towards the plate, sprinkling the remaining crumbs on the china to keep up the appearance that he had in fact consumed the cake. Smiling to himself, he dropped the therapy book down the side of his bed, covering it with a bunch of old socks that nobody in the house would dream of touching. The perks of being a teenage boy.

"Ron mum want's to know if you want the last muffin? I told her you'd probably want me to have it but she said I had to ask, oh and she wants your muffin wrapper."

Rolling his eyes at George, Ron shook his head, handing over the plate. He didn't want the first one, why on earth would he willingly accept another one? Sometimes he really didn't understand what went through his mother's mind. It was like she did everything backwards. If her child didn't want food, she'd just keep offering more until he no longer refused, as if that would actually work.

Was that what she was going to discuss with that Miss Daniels? That Ron didn't want second helpings anymore? There was no way to prove that he hadn't been eating proper meals. And anyway he was fourteen years old, definitely not a child! They couldn't do anything to him! He wouldn't allow it! Besides, they had no way of actually keeping him with the therapist, especially if his mother wanted to talk with her alone.

If there was one thing Ron had learned from living with such a big family, it was how to slip unseen past people, more specifically people that were supposed to be keeping a close eye on him. He had lost count of the amount of times he'd slipped past babysitters and older siblings while his parents were out for the night. This would be no different. He had a plan for that fateful visit in three days. And Ron's plans rarely ever failed.

* * *

A/N: Any good? If there's anything that seems off, or you want to see something in the story just let me know! I know it's a little on the short side but the next chapter will hopefully be longer.

Seeya next post, nicholosaur :)


	48. Chapter 48: Breathing In, Breaking Down

Disclaimer: I still do not own the rights to the Harry Potter universe, as you all very well know by now.

Thank you Kendra Dhyanna for reviewing! You are such an amazing human being! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story :)

This sort of just tumbled out of my mind so I do apologise if some of you find it a bit upsetting, that is not my intention!

Enjoy! (Or not, I can't really command you to) ;)

* * *

I'm standing close to the edge

I witnessed all those things you said

I've tried not to let them in

But here I'm standing close to the edge

How was I supposed to know

Not to hate but to care

A distant dream that I forgot

Could have served me so well

So so well

Can't you see that it's not my fault

It's just the way I've been brought up

Another person I can blame

Another way to hide my pain

Cameron Brown - Close To The Edge

* * *

"Drink? Can you say Drink for me Harry? How about water? Water?"

No! He couldn't say drink! Or water! Let them try having a huge tube shoved down their throat pumping oxygen into their lungs and see how easy they find speaking! Reaching forward with his good hand for the cup, he let out a groan, dry heaving as his stomach contracted painfully. The joys of chemotherapy. Why wouldn't they just give him the damn water? He was dying over here! Didn't they care? Bringing his fist down beside him, his gave out a tortured cry, thrusting himself forward and very nearly ripping out the tubes from his arms.

"Just give him the bloody drink! Just what are you trying to do to the boy?! Can't you see he's in pain?!"

Blinking in shock at his father, Harry greedily sucked on the straw, relishing in the cool liquid sliding down his throat. One point to Snape! Nobody else had ever managed to get Spongy to shut up so fast. The woman scurried from the room, a hand held over her face, and Harry couldn't help but laugh as Miss Ellen followed behind her, those strange objects piled up in her arms giving her the look of a clown. Snape merely shrugged at the women, his eyes dropping back to the newspaper held in front of him with the ghost of a smile haunting his lips, almost as if he thought their reactions were normal.

There was the Snape Harry knew and loved. Glancing sidewards, Harry attempted to maneuver the cup back to the bedside table closest to him, the cup tumbling to the floor as his hand gave out. Snape jumped up, his eyes narrowing at the boy. Harry gulped, closing his eyes for the beating he had been dreading ever since moving in with the man. He knew the good mood was too good to be true.

.

What on earth was that? Ron stared down at the plate in front of him, poking the mysterious object with the edge of his fork. Surely they weren't expecting him to eat that? It looked like something had curled up and died right there in front of him. No, something had curled up and died in front of him. Lamb he assumed, though it didn't exactly smell very appetizing, and it looked ghastly. How on earth had he managed to eat that at one point? The mere idea of it made him sick to his stomach.

Cutting it down into small chunks, Ron sly dropped a few onto his lap, stuffing them into his hoodie pocket when nobody was looking. Finishing most of the plate, he excused himself from the table, dashing back to his room to stuff Pig with more food. Could owl's eat lamb? He certainly hoped so. If Pig got sick then someone would definitely catch on to what he was doing. Pacing the length of his room over and over, he repeated the same few words, his gaze never leaving the small window overlooking the overrun garden. He didn't want to be there, confined to the countryside while his bestmate rotted away in a hospital room. Thundering down the stairs, he shot out of the door, breathing in the sweet country air. A run would clear his mind. A run would make it better.

.

Snape had never before felt so ashamed of his actions than when he saw his son, lying immobile in a hospital bed, cower under the glare he had trained on him. He had always promised himself he would never become his father, never make his own child fear his very name. A single shouldn't insight fear in a child, it was wrong, and he hated himself for it. "I'm not going to hurt you, I'm so-"

"Soup's ready! I hear it's your lucky day young man, the tomato is truly exceptional."

Saved by the old dear that pushed the trolley! Slumping back down into the chair, he took hold of Harry's hand, rubbing circles along the back with his thumb. His boy's entire body tensed up as the dish was set in front of him, not that Snape could really blame him, Harry's experience with food hadn't exactly been very pleasant. "Just a few mouthful's Harry, that's all we're asking." A spoon was placed into one of his trembling hands, his eyebrows knitting together as he stared down at the utensil.

The nurse that had appeared sometime between receiving the food, and the old lady leaving, gently guided Harry's hand from the bowl up to his mouth. Always patient, always calm. Things Snape always aspired to be. It amazed him how far Harry had come in such a short space of time. That tiny skeleton of a boy had thrown a fit with the very mention of food a few short weeks ago, and now he was finishing half a bowl of soup with relatively no prompting, perhaps miracles do happen. Blowing out a deep sigh of relief, he pulled the little guy into an awkward tube-tangling hug. This was what he lived for. This was what he loved. The minuscule pockets of hope that were pulled from the air when everything else seemed hopeless. They told him that things could get better. They made him believe.

.

It was sobbing that woke Molly Weasley from her fitful sleep in the small hours of the morning, heart-wrenching cries that clawed at her heart. Why couldn't she help her son? In all her years as a mother never had she felt so helpless, so lousy. Skinned knees she could deal with. Broken bones and concussions were second nature to her. But there was nothing physically wrong with her boy, nothing that required a quick fix, nothing on the outside. How do you help someone when you know nothing about them? And she didn't, not really.

Ron had always grown up directly above Ginny, always cast aside when the youngest Weasley needed help. The older one's never really had to deal with that. Percy had Bill and Charlie when the twins came, and the twins had each other. But Ron was stuck, nobody directly above him, the only girl directly below him. A big family was supposed to combat loneliness, but in this case all it had done was isolate Ron further.

Was sending him to therapy the right decision? He wouldn't talk to her, hadn't since that brief exchange in the bathroom. And he rarely spoke to anyone else, family or otherwise. School would be starting back up soon, yet the idea of sending her youngest boy back to the castle sent panic through her entire system. There was no way he'd be able to handle that, even she could see it. He was much too unstable, and she had only surveyed him for a few days. An entire year would be lethal. "Why are you doing this too me Ronald? What did I ever do?" Sighing wearily, she turned back towards her room. She wouldn't confront him about it, there would be no point. He got defensive at the best of times.

So they would carry on, and in the morning she would probably have forgotten about it anyway in the chaos of the Burrow. But Ron wouldn't forget what had happened. Wouldn't forget his mother shaking her head, not even bothering to enter the room, to check he was okay. Wouldn't forget the muttered words she spoke. Everything he thought seemed to click into place like a jigsaw puzzle. His mother didn't love him, she didn't even like him. She loved Harry, the boy that hadn't caused her so much disappointment over his life. He was so stupid! Why did he ever think she cared?! The therapy was probably just to get him away from her! But he wouldn't let her win! He'd show her! He'd show them all! He wasn't weak! He was stronger than everybody else! And he'd prove it! Even if it killed him.

.

Just breathe. In. Out. Harry kept the four word chant going in his head as he desperately waited for the newest headache to abandon his body. Radiotherapy was scheduled for tomorrow, and he knew it would only get worse before, no if, it got better. He might not even recover, which would just suck considering all that he had gone through just to stay alive up until this point. Blinking tiredly as the pain subsided, he smiled slightly at his father's sleeping form. Snape had done so much for him, more than the Dursley's ever had, and it wasn't even his job.

That was what made a real guardian. Someone who wouldn't just quit when the going got tough. Someone that would love him no matter what. While he would always miss his real father, the man he had always wished was still alive when he was younger, his life just wouldn't be the same without Snape. A true father didn't have to be related by blood. A true father was born in the small acts of kindness they performed everyday. In the unconditional love they gave out without ever being asked. Looks didn't matter. DNA had nothing to do with it. Snape went out of his way to do things Harry wouldn't even think of asking him to do. And Harry loved him for it.

There wasn't enough words in the world to express just how much that greasy dungeon bat meant to the small boy. He had always thought that love was worthless, and happy families were a fairy story, nothing more. But now? Now he could finally believe in something. Finally get on with his life, write his own story. It wouldn't be pretty, far from it. And there would be parts that looked down right miserable. But the ending would be something of envy. Something magical. Nobody was going to take that away from him now. Just let them try.

* * *

A/N: Be honest with me guys, is this any good at all? I really want to know if you have any ideas on how to make it better, or if there is something that just seems so bizarrely out of place and you think it should be changed. Your feedback is very important to me, I want you to actually enjoy reading through this! In case you were wondering, the title of this chapter refers to both Harry and Ron. While Harry is breathing in and getting better, Ron appears to be breaking down. Just thought I'd clarify in case people didn't understand what it was all about.

Exam leave starts soon! My first exam is on the 1st of May, and then I have fourteen days until the next one, so I'll be able to get more chapters done between then. I have an assessment on Wednesday so I may not get another chapter done tomorrow as I'll be revising for that, and Thursday I have another assessment in a different class. So I may or may not get another chapter typed up, but it'll be up by Friday at the latest!

See you guys soon, nicholosaur :)


	49. Chapter 49: The Problems With Love

Disclaimer: We've been over this multiple times now.

I know this is a day late! I was planning on writing it yesterday but I caught up on playing the Sims 2 so I humbly apologise!

I have to admit I got really excited at the number of reviews I received for the previous chapter! You guys are amazing and I love each and every one of you! So I'd like to thank you all (Guest, gefan1, jelliefishes, Kendra Dhyanna, mas1581, and vonny25). All of your advice had been noted, and you'll be pleased to know that I already have an idea for the next one to get things moving again (I tend to ramble in stories so I'm sorry for it dragging!) :)

The support for this story has exceeded all expectations I had for it. I was literally expecting only a few people to read it but all you guys have stuck with me and it means a lot!

But anyway you didn't come here to read me blabbing on, so on with the story!

* * *

Stay

Tell me the story again

How it all fell apart in the end

Just when you thought you were too far gone

You're too far gone

Wait

Maybe the reasons don't fit

When did you lose innocence

And when did you find that you cant hold on

You cant hold on

David Hodges - Hard To Believe

* * *

He looked so peaceful, so free. Annessa pressed a hand against the glass that separated her and her green eyed love, watching as his chest rose and fell in a perfect rhythm, the heart monitor echoing her own beats in complete synchronisation. No visitors. That had been a condition Snape had put in place while Harry was transitioning off the feeding tube and dealing with his current diagnosis, and while she normally respected the man that had become her father figure, that was one thing she wasn't willing to do. She was dying. It would be slow, and quite possibly painful, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. But Harry had a chance, he could get away even with his new dilemma.

Contrary to what Harry believed, she did understand. How could she not? Not to long ago she had been in his very shoes, heard all the facts the doctors spewed out. Statistics, while they may be comforting to an adult, scared the hell out of a child. First hand experience told her that. Nobody wanted to be told they had a thirty percent chance of dying, especially a kid that was still finding their feet in life. Isolating yourself just made it so much worse, that was something she learnt the hard way.

Harry had Snape, a man that would do absolutely anything for his son, yet she knew he wouldn't be able to discuss certain things with the man. Bottling up feelings ate you alive. Poisoned your bloodstream until you can no longer take it. So she couldn't just leave the boy to wallow in pity, to build up a wall around himself.

All too often Annessa saw a patient succumb to the emotional pain, but she wouldn't allow Harry to give up! He was stronger than that! Wiping away a stray tear, she gave him a final glance, her breath fogging up a patch of glass. He didn't deserve this. Nobody did. People say that you die when you're ready. When you've fulfilled all that was required on earth. But she wasn't ready! She'd never be ready! She didn't want to leave Harry, or Snape, or her sister. She just wanted to live! And that just happened to be the one thing she couldn't have.

.

"What do you mean she has cancer? My girl's just fine! She came in for a bump to the head, not a tumour! You're wrong! You have to be!"

Running a hand through his hair, Doctor Whittker let out a soft sigh, not even flinching as the child's mother aimed punch after punch at his chest. The parents had every right to be angry. Receiving news of that nature was never easy, especially when it was so unexpected. It was human nature to lash out, to deny the truth at every turn in the hopes that it would go away. But it never did, and no amount of damage to the messenger could change that. He sympathised with them, he truly did, those words crushed a parent. It didn't change anything though. You could lie until you're blue in the face but in the end you still have to face up to the facts. Still have to be there for your child.

"Linda no! It's not his fault!"

The woman's sobs filled the room, muffled only slightly by her husband's chest. The scene was an almost daily occurrence working where he did, and Whittker hated being the person to inflict so much pain upon someone. "I'm sorry, I know it's hard but we need to start treatment right away, nurse Willows will help you fill out the paperwork and I'll be round shortly to discuss things with your daughter." Nodding at his colleague, he exited the room, taking a minute to compose himself. The odds were in the girl's favour, yes it would still be a gruelling time of treatment, but all things considered she had one of the best types of tumour to have. Unlike Harry.

Doctor Whittker had seen many patients through his years as a doctor, from week old infants to ninety-nine year old pensioners. Each he would treat with the same amount of care and compassion, becoming neither too close nor too distant. And when they passed on, or got better, he would move on to another person that needed his help, another patient to add to his list. But there were a few that touched his heart, leaving everlasting impressions that time could never take away. One of those patients was Harry. Since the first meeting in that isolation room, Harry had been all Whittker could think about. Wise beyond his years, and willing to sacrifice everything for the happiness of others. Traits rare in most adults of today's world, almost non-existent in a child. This was a case he couldn't afford to lose, it meant way too much to him now. Failure wasn't an option.

.

Miss Daniels' office was not at all how Ron had imagined it. Pictures hung on the wall of happy smiling people, probably to put patients at ease, but to Ron they seemed to be mocking him, patronising him with those fake grins. Nobody was that happy, at least not people that stepped foot in the office, voluntarily or otherwise. His mother hovered by the door, beside a giant plant that seemed a little too green for the room. The woman clearly tried too hard to get people relaxed, it was having the complete opposite effect. Slumping down in a chair nearest to the window, Ron turned up the volume on his iPod, silently thanking his father for the strange obsession he had with muggle objects.

"Good morning, y-"

Cramming the other earphone into his right ear, Ron blocked out the conversation the woman was attempting to have with him, his eyes trained on the people rushing past on the street below. Their lives were probably a damn lot better than his. How he wished he could be down there among them. Perhaps he could go for a run in the park? Or maybe down by the lake? Somewhere with cleanish air, and no nosey women! Feeling a tap on his shoulder, and the tug of the war connecting him to the music currently destroying his eardrums, he flicked his gaze up to the woman, unwilling to listen to what she had to say. The next thing he knew was the bud was no longer fitting snugly inside his ear, but dangling down by his side, the song still audible.

"That's better don't you think? I'm Miss Daniels, I heard you've been having some problems recently."

Shrugging his shoulders, he glanced at the door, thankfully noting that his mother was no longer there, she would have completely messed up his plan. What was it with adults wanting you to discuss your feelings anyway? Was there nothing he was allowed to keep private in his life anymore? Ignoring her incessant rambling, he fought the urge to plug himself back into his device. Unable to take anymore of her talking, he brushed the hair from his eyes, tucking the earphones back into his pocket and climbing to his feet. "Bathroom?" Nodding at her directions, he strode over to the door, shutting it behind him. Phase one complete.

.

It wasn't fair! Dudley paced back and forth outside the head teacher's office, gnawing nervously on the edge of his thumb as his foster parents argued his case with the man inside. So what if he punched a kid? They had been badmouthing his mother, and nobody got away with that, not anymore. Apparently his behaviour was unacceptable within a school environment, the head didn't appear to have a problem with the other boy. It wasn't as if he had even hit him that hard, only a tiny amount of blood had spilled from the kid's nose and lip.

Dudley wouldn't have even had to do it if the teachers did their job properly. His foster mother had rung to report the teasing several days ago, and while they had promised to deal with it, nothing had been done at all. If taking a swing at the guy would stop it, then what was he supposed to do? It wasn't so great when he was on the receiving end. All those years he had been the bully of the school, the one that most kids feared, just to impress his father. If Dudley could take it all back he would. Nobody should be treated like that.

At least that obnoxious brat would think twice before going for him again, well he hoped. Either that or Dudley had just dug himself an even bigger grave. If only Harry was there, he'd know what to do, he always did. Stopping his movements as the door swung open, he caught the roll of his new father's eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. The man was so much more relaxed than his real father.

"We'll definitely be having a conversation will Dudley when we get home to praise him for defending himself, and also finding another school, one that doesn't ignore their pupils because of the household they came from! The Board of Education will hear about this!"

Smirking at the head teacher's shocked look, Dudley followed his makeshift family from the building. While he would never have wished for his current circumstances, there was nobody else he would rather spend time with. His new family understood him, and cared for him in a way his real parents couldn't. But the family was still missing one person. He still needed Harry. He still needed his brother.

* * *

A/N: My last day of S5 is on Tuesday! Then it's exam leave until June 1st when I enter S6! Luckily I'm only sitting four exams this year and they're pretty spaced out so I won't have too much trouble updating the story. I will have to study a lot though in order to get the grades I need for university at the end of S6.

My mind is brimming with ideas for the next chapter so if I manage to get on my laptop tomorrow I will definitely write and update!

Seeya very soon, nicholosaur :)


	50. Chapter 50: Letting Go

Disclaimer: NOPE!

You guys are the best! Thank you Kendra Dhyanna, vonny25, and Guest for taking the time to review. Referring to Guest's question, you'll just have to wait and see ;)

We made it to FIFTY chapters! I am actually so excited that we managed it! Though I'm more surprised I've managed to find a song that kinda fits every single chapter, it shows just how much time I spend listening to music! Of course the story is nowhere near done, but I'm really grateful that everyone has stuck by this for so long!

Onwards!

* * *

Time will rob you blind

Take everything you have to offer

Love, sweet when it comes

Saves all us beggars, priests and authors

And oh, how do we let go?

When someone we love slips away in the shadows

Well, it's hard to see you go

'Cause you mean everything to me

And the seeds that you have sown

Will live on deep inside of me

It's time, you're leaving now

Your hands are cold as I kiss your brow

And I will try but I don't know how to let go

To let go

Tyrone Wells - Let Go

* * *

It was as if he had suddenly turned invisible to the world. Ron simply had to walk straight past the receptionist, head held high, and she didn't even blink, acted like he wasn't even there. Music blasting out, he took the stairs two at a time, reaching the ground floor in record time. Heavy clouds hung above his head as he jogged away from the building, reflecting the mood he had worked himself into, why did people always interfere will his life? It's not like he was dying, unlike Harry. Ron could understand if they sent his bestmate to a shrink, but he didn't have anything wrong with him!

Breathing in the fresh air, he pushed himself harder, his limbs trembling at the unwanted exertion. Pain pulsed through his empty stomach, begging him for relief from the three day fast he was currently on. Allowing himself to eat would be giving up though, and Ronald Weasley was not a quitter.

Falling heavily onto a bench overlooking the lake, he held his head in his hands, willing the dizziness to pass. As soon as it did he would be up again, burning off any calories that had managed to leach into his system from the toothpaste he used that morning. His music thundered in his ears, accompanied by the loud drumming of his heart. Climbing unsteadily to his feet, he shook his head, attempting to clear the fog before once again setting off, the cold air biting at his cheeks.

Even under the thick layers he wore, he still shivered, why was it so cold in August? Knees buckling under him, he felt the ground rush to catch his fall, his head cracking against the concrete. From the corner of his eye, he saw a blackbird fly from the nearby tree. And then the darkness swallowed him whole.

.

Spongy had officially lost it, there was no other way to put it. The woman held in her hand a phonetic alphabet book, something Harry could read by the time he was two, her shining with excitement which was never a good sign. Did she enjoy torturing him? Internally groaning, he caught sight of Annessa through the window, instantly waving her in. She seemed to hesitate slightly, a stab of hurt making itself known in Harry's heart at the conflict of emotions that flashed across her face. Did she not want to see him anymore?

"Okay Harry, what is this letter?"

Ignoring the crazy lady, he grinned as Annessa stepped through the door, rolling her eyes at Spongy's latest tactic. How he had missed her attitude. A hand was waved inches from his face, Spongy clucking in annoyance at the latest interruption. If his arms weren't so weak she would be getting a large slap across the cheek.

"I think it would be best if you left young lady, we have a very important task which cannot have any disruptions."

Glaring at the woman, Harry dropped his fist on top of her's, smirking triumphantly as she let out a squeal. Annessa stepped out of the way as she fled from the room, the sound of her laughter making Harry breathe a sigh of relief, she hadn't changed that much. Patting the bed next to him, he dropped his head on her shoulder. It felt nice to have his girl back.

.

It was at times like this that Doctor Whittker wished he had followed his parents wishes and became a pilot. Spongy sat in front of him, a tissue clutched in one hand, the other sporting a pretty impressive bruise. Clearly Harry was stronger than they thought. He had just come back from telling a distraught father that his six year old child only had three weeks at the most to live, and the last thing he wanted to do was comfort an over-emotional nurse that probably deserved much worse than she had received. His job wasn't to be a babysitter to the therapists of the hospital! Why couldn't they seem to understand that?

Right now all he wanted to do was throw himself into researching more about Harry's case so he could treat him as successfully as was able, not listen to a woman rant on about out of control children that needed to be taught a lesson. How did she think they should act? It wasn't as if they had normal lives. Everything was a chaotic nightmare to them, and she wanted them to able to act like perfect little angels? It was almost laughable. How would she like it if her entire world was flipped upside down and she could barely comprehend why? Children as young as days old were subjected to the same harsh treatments pumped into adult bodies, and there wasn't really a way you could explain to a three year old that their own body was killing them, it was hard enough getting a teenager to understand.

Giving a silent cheer as she was called from the room, Whittker flipped open Harry's file. The radiotherapy seemed to working, though they would find out tomorrow just how much. Until then he would just research the different experimental trials for highly aggressive cases such as Harry's. Taking a sip of coffee that had long since gone cold from his Worlds Greatest Dad mug, he stroked the faded letters that had been lovingly painted four years ago. If only he could go back to that time. Rubbing his eyes to get rid of any trace of tears, he attempted to focus on the writing in front of him. There was no point dwelling on the past, the present was much more important.

.

He didn't understand. Annessa had been fine only a few hours ago, racing up and down the corridor with him in the wheelchair she had managed to locate. How could things have gone downhill so fast? Harry knew it would happen eventually, they had stopped all of the treatment a while back, but not this quickly! He wasn't ready to lose her, not yet! She couldn't die! Pushing himself up with some difficulty, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, reaching out for the wheelchair and pulling it closer. The nurses were dealing with an emergency in another room so there would be no one to stop him, not that they would be able to if they tried.

Manoeuvring it would be much more difficult by himself, especially as he was still attached to the drugs they were flooding his bloodstream with. At least he didn't have to deal with the heart monitor now, they had taken him off it after Annessa had set it off repeatedly by taking the pads from his chest. Flopping down, he brushed the sweat from his forehead, guiding the pole with his right open palm while clutching the wheel with his left. He clearly hadn't thought this through.

"Need some help?"

Oddessy! Harry had only laid eyes on him a couple times, and while he didn't even know him, it was nice to have a familiar face. Nodding his head, he let his arm drop onto his lap, thankful for his saviour.

"Let me guess? You're going to see that friend of yours up on Elephant Ward."

How did that guy know Harry so well? It was creepy just how much the patients knew about each other in the hospital. At least Oddessy didn't try to stop him from going like all of the nurses would have. In fact he appeared to be quite sneaky about it. Peering round the corner as they exited the lift, they sped up to catch the door to the ward before it locked, ginning triumphantly at each other as they slid in undetected. Finding Annessa's room was like second nature to Harry now, he'd be able to find it in his sleep.

Smiling in thankfulness at the boy, he wheeled himself up to the bed, stroking the girl's hand as she lay motionless beneath the very wires Harry had been attached to not too long ago. Her eyes blinked open, tired and worn, her hand gripping his. He hated cancer so much!

"I wondered how long it would take you to sneak up hear." Her voice cracked, the wheezing in her chest becoming more prominent. "Took you longer than I thought it would, I think the radiotherapy is frying your brain."

Only Annessa would make a joke at a time like this. Biting down on his lip to prevent himself from dissolving into tears, he gave her a small smile. He wasn't ready for her to go. Patients died all the time in the hospital. Each ward had a small memorial for them, names pinned up with a small picture. A dark reminder of what may happen to you at any moment. Never had he envisioned Annessa's name among them. Turning as he heard footsteps in the corridor, he felt a hand grip his arm.

"Don't leave me."

Shaking his head, he pulled himself up onto the bed, curling up next to her burning body. There wasn't anywhere else he'd rather be.

* * *

A/N: So what do you think? I hope you guys like this and don't want to hunt me down and stab me repeatedly ;)

Hit review and let me know your thoughts (you know you want to) :)

If I'm not busy with homework on Monday then I'll write another chapter!

Seeya next post, nicholosaur :)


	51. Chapter 51: The Weight Of The World

Disclaimer: As much as I'd love to, I do not own Harry Potter

I did finish writing this on Wednesday but I've been super busy with revising and I only got back from a field craft weekend camp with cadets today. So armed with a bruise on my right knee, matching blisters on either heel from a five mile walk, friction burn on my left shoulder from where the sling of the rifle rubbed, an extremely sore patch on my right shoulder where the Bergen (which was pretty heavy and made me feel like a turtle, luckily we only had to wear them for about ten minutes before they were stored on a trailer to be collected at the end point of our walk) squished the buckles of my webbing against me, and a stomach full of ration pack food (let's just say it's not the most pleasant food in the world), I'm ready to post this chapter!

Study leave officially started last Tuesday, and my first exam was last Friday! So I have over two weeks of freedom before my Higher English exam so I'll be able to update practically every day! :)

I feel as though I must put a warning in case anyone gets offended. Ron's paragraphs (which I've clearly marked) deal with issues surrounding Eating Disorders. It's more to do with his feelings but I thought I'd best say something just in case.

I would like to thank Guest for reviewing! In response to your question, I'm just going to say that the pace will start picking up so you will see soon enough what happens :)

I'd also like to thank Stacey's Universe for your support of the story! People like you are the reason I continue writing this story! Keep being awesome! :D

If anyone has any suggestions I'd be happy to hear them and try and intergrate them into the story! Don't be shy people ;)

* * *

Cracks in the concrete

Breaking the ground beneath your feet

Always threatening

The stars are exploding

All that you know is crumbling

You cry yourself to sleep

But I can't save you now

I can't save you now

I can't save you now

I don't know how

Tyrone Wells - I Can't Save You Now

* * *

*(**RON ALERT**)*

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Ron's eyes fluttered open at the familiar sound, had he somehow made it to the hospital? The last thing he remembered was the park, and then... Jolting up right, he winced at the pain shooting through his head, panic swirling through his body. He shouldn't be in the hospital! He wasn't sick! Turning his attention to the bag of fluid connected to his arm, he narrowed his eyes at the label. Glucose? They were dripping poison into him?! Reaching towards the offending tube, he tugged it from his arm, ignoring the pain that accomponied the movement. Nobody was going to fill his body with that toxic sugary substance! He didn't want it! He didn't need it!

"Ronald Weasley just what exactly do you think you are playing at?!"

Training his glare on his mother, he folded his arms tightly across his chest, away from anyones reach. "I want to go home!" The demand flew from his mouth with anger, a lot louder than either of them expected. A nearby nurse looked his way, her lips pursed in a disapproving line, her and Snape would have gotten along nicely. "I don't need this!" He motioned towards the abandoned drip, huddling as far away from it as possible, certain the calories would somehow seep into his bloodstream if the liquid touched his skin. "I'm not sick!" The more he said it, the more his mother's shoulders slumped, the more the light disappeared from her eyes. None of it mattered to Ron though, all he cared about was getting out of there without them trying to fatten him up like a Christmas turkey. It was his right to control when and what he ate, not their's! And he would make sure they knew it! Nobody was going to take it away from him! Not one living soul!

.

Throughout the entire time Harry had been cooped up in the hospital, Snape had learned one solid thing. The boy was pretty much as predictable as the seasons when it came to finding where he had disappeared to. A simple trip up to Elephant ward was all it took, and Snape's heart broke at the sight of his boy curled up beside Annessa, their hands entwined. Neither were sleeping, that much he could tell, their breathing was much too shallow. Yet no words were being transferred, reminding Snape of the relationship he once shared with Lily. How things had changed since back then. Running a hand through the mess of hair that had taken over his head, he thought about berating the boy for breaking the rules, the idea fleeing from his mind as Harry looked up at Annessa with the smile that was all too rare these days.

How would they cope when that girl was torn from them? The child had become like a daughter to Snape, as much a part of the family as Harry was. Losing her would be worse than when he lost his own parents, the kids mattered to him more than anything else in the world. He could just imagine Dumbledore's twinkling eyes if he admitted that, not that he ever would.

"Hows he holding up?"

Glancing up, he offered the doctor a small shrug, tearing himself away from the children to face the man properly. "In all honesty I couldn't tell you, he's been pretty distant ever since he found out about the tumours." It made him feel like a lousy father, admitting that piece of information, but at the same time it felt as though a weight had been lifted off his chest.

"I know exactly how you feel, but trust me it will get better, just give it time."

Time. That appeared to be the answer to everything. But just how much time did Harry really have? Annessa had proven that even the patients with the brightest outcomes can fall hard and fast, crushing the hopes and dreams of everyone around them. Would Harry be next? Snape couldn't bear to just wait around and see. He wanted to do something, anything. If only he could swap places with the teenager, fight some of the battle for him. If only he could make him feel better. If only.

.

What was it with people wanting him to predict the future? Doctor Whittker may have saved countless lives in his career as a neurologist, but that didn't make a miracle worker, it didn't make psychic. There was just no way of knowing whether a child would live, whether the treatment would work. In the end it was simply up to the patient. If their body didn't want to fight, then there wasn't a medicine in the world that could help it. Parents didn't seem to understand that, and how could they? It seemed like an awful lot to put on the shoulders of a child, their child. Any explanation blew straight over their heads, and of course when the treatment failed it was the doctor they turned to with anger and confusion, it was the doctor they resented the most.

Doctor Whittker wished with every bone in his body that there was some kind of magical cure that would make it all better. But there wasn't. So everyday he would go through the same routine with his patients, checking vitals and making sure they were comfortable while diverting any of the parents or carers questions until he could find the perfect answer to put their minds at ease.

It wasn't an easy task, but then again nobody said it would be. He had taken it with the sole purpose to help those whose world had just been ripped apart. Working with children and teenagers was so much more rewarding than adults. They barely ever complained about the unfairness of it all, always eager to please. Sure the casualties were always so much greater, and no matter how many you save there is always those few you couldn't. Most said he was crazy to actually enjoy his job, but it was the fleeting moments when a patient began to get better, when a parent would kiss his face and thank him over and over again, that made it all worth while. Yes sometimes he did hate what he did, who didn't? But he wouldn't trade it for the world. Because what he did actually mattered. What he did made a difference. What he did felt right.

.

Remus Lupin was not a man who startled easily. All throughout his high school career nobody had ever been able to scare him. But that night, staring out into the starless sky, he felt as though the entire world was pushing down on him. His cub was somewhere nearby, locked up in a hospital room fighting for his life, and he couldn't even be there to comfort him. The mere thought of coming face to face with what was left of the boy he used to know sent chills down his spine. Did that make him a coward? Probably. Even the dungeon bat had more guts than him, though he knew James would be turning in his grave at Severus becoming a father to the child.

Closing his eyes against the world, he thought of his friend, a man that had given his life for his wife and son. Lupin would never have that courage, not if he couldn't even step foot inside a muggle hospital. Maybe that was why Harry had found it so difficult to confide in him that something was going on at the Dursley's? He clearly knew that Lupin wouldn't be able to help, too much of a coward to fight.

"You mustn't blame yourself."

Of course Dumbledore would want to interfere with his moping! Was there nothing that man would leave alone? Shaking his head, Lupin stayed facing outwards, the cool breeze washing over his face. He didn't deserve the comfort that the old man offered. Harry had grown up without it, so why should a grown man need it? No, he wouldn't let anyone change his mind. The blame laid squarely on his shoulders. And nobody could change that.

.

*(**RON ALERT**)*

"You're just making it harder on yourself."

The redheaded boy kept his glare trained on the nurse by the door, his hand twisting the tube around his arm, preventing the much needed nutrients from entering his body. It hurt, like hell, but there was no way on earth Ron was going to allow them to poison him with the mixture. He wasn't going to die if he didn't get them, so what was all the fuss about? His arm had begun to throb painfully about an hour ago, just as the nurse predicted it would. She was giving him that condescending smile that he hated so much, and if he wasn't so preoccupied in his current task, he would definitely have punched her square in the face. Adults always overstepped their boundaries.

"You need it kid, you'll die without it."

Die? Ron wasn't dying. Maybe she was getting him mixed up with Harry? That had to be it. Everybody cared more about Harry than Ron. Even his own mother would rather have the Boy-Who-Lived as a son. "I'm perfectly fine thank you! Now let me go home!" To tell the truth he didn't even want to go home. Home was where his siblings ran riot, shouting and laughing, and his parents ignored him. Home was much too cheerful and happy. But he would definitely take that instead of the hospital any day. He wasn't even sick! Was this payback for running from the therapist? If so his mother had a sick sense of humour.

"Perfectly fine? You're acting like a bratty two year old!"

He was not! Glaring more fiercely at the woman, he flexed his fingers slightly, wincing as pain shot through his hand. Moving was definitely not a good idea. He'd just have to stay still until his mother came back to pick him up. That would be easy enough to do, right? Mind made up, he tightened his grip on the rubber tube. Nobody was going to take away his control. Not without a fight.

* * *

A/N: Another chapter done and dusted! I have absolutely nothing going on tomorrow so I'll be able to write another chapter when I decide to rise from my pit of blankets ;)

Leave a review before you disappear! I love finding out what you guys think of the way the story is progressing! It doesn't matter if you love it, or hate it, or you're somewhere in between! Any thing that can help me make it better is welcomed with open arms :)

I will see you all very soon, nicholosaur :)


	52. Chapter 52: Busting Out

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling owns the Harry Potter universe! I'm simply borrowing it!

I know this is late! I got caught up on watching Orange Is The New Black on Netflix last night (I managed to get through the first five episodes without stopping before I had to sleep) and I got my hair cut and coloured (PURPLE!) yesterday during the day so my schedule has been pretty booked up ;) Plus on Monday I slept for fifteen hours straight so I really didn't have time to get onto my laptop and write this! I apologise for the delay!

I would like to thank the Guest for leaving a review! And also all the people that Favourited and Followed the story! You guys are the best! :)

* * *

If today's the day I die

Lay me down under the lights

Let me fall in love

Let me save a life

And let me lose my voice

Singing all my favorite songs

Let me stare up at the stars

'Cause it's where we all belong

My heart like a firework in my chest

My only regret is having regrets

Travelled the world

I loved every step

And all I know is

No one, no one lives forever

We will be remembered

For what we do right now

The Cab - Living Louder

* * *

The late evening sun cast shadows across the room as Severus Snape paced the corridor, a phone glued to his ear despite the protests of the staff. Every few seconds his eyes would dart back to the bed his two children were lying in, making sure they were still alright. Receiving only the voicemail once again, he angrily slammed his thumb against the end call button, not even bothering to leave a message this time. Was it that hard to check your phone in Hawaii? Those people shouldn't be parents at all if they didn't even care enough to check up on their own child.

This time six months ago he would have been marking first year essays, perhaps grumbling at a classic error that they had all made. It would have been tedious, and many house points would have been lost. But at least it was certain. At least it was safe. His entire world was now one uncertainty to another. Nothing made sense. Was there a real reason he was beating himself up at not being able to reach his girl's parents? That child had intruded on his life with no warning, with no permission, and now he couldn't think of a world without her. Severus Snape, a man that incite fear into most adults, felt an overwhelming sense of pain at the mere thought of losing his princess, of losing one of the only things that mattered to him anymore.

Reentering the room, he forced a smile, glancing at the calender tacked up on the wall, wasn't there a funfair in town this weekend? Glancing back down the corridor, he shrugged on his jacket, grabbing Harry's wheelchair from the corner of the room. "Come on guys, we're busting out."

.

(***RON ALERT***)

When things didn't go his way, Ron's usual response was to try a little more forcibly, a little more loudly. Growing up with five older brothers taught him that you had to raise your voice to be heard, that you had to do something drastic for them to listen. From breaking his own wrist dropping from a tree when he was six, to snapping both ankles jumping from his bedroom window when he was nine, his cries of attention had been blatently obvious to himself, but practically invisible to his own family. 'There he goes again, always causing trouble' would be their words, classic old Ronald, always ruining everything.

So he adapted, became a shadow at the back. Only really spoke to his family when they instigated the conversation, stayed out of their way as much as he possibly could. Running away had proven one thing, his mother only cared when others were around, she was probably only at the hospital the day he was found because Harry had disappeared as well.

They didn't love him, that much was obvious. Nobody did. All he did was make things worse for everyone around him. He'd almost killed Harry, his mother's favourite son, who wouldn't hate him? He certainly hated himself. He was fat, and ugly, and incapable of being loved, or liked, or anything good for that matter. If he wasn't around then his family would be able to affored better things, like new books, and brand new clothes for Ginny. They wouldn't need to struggle to make ends meet. Sighing softly, he reajusted his position, glaring at the mixture running through his veins. They would be sending him home in a few days, and then he'd make everyone's dreams come true. They wouldn't have to deal with him for much longer. What a relief it must be for them.

.

They were out! Harry couldn't believe it. Snape, his Snape, had blatantly ignored the rules and simply walked out of the hospital with him and Annessa, and nobody had even noticed. It was brilliant. Annessa rode on his lap, that beautiful smile on her face that Harry loved so much, when was the last time he had seen that? The cold air bit at his cheeks, but he was much too happy to complain, he hadn't seen the world in far too long, and he knew it was even longer for Annessa. Snape whooped as they ran down the street, a thing Harry had never dreamed of witnessing. Was he dreaming? Would he wake up back in bed? He certainly hoped not, this was the most fun he'd had in the longest time.

"What do you think? The merry-go-round first?"

All Harry could do was stare in awe at the flashing lights and loud music that made his head throb, so this was what a funfair looked like? It was even better than he imagined. Finding himself strapped onto a horse with Annessa holding to his waist, he tilted his head back, watching the world pass by, Snape waving from his place in the crowd of parents. This was what normal families did. This was how they acted. Finally he could belong, he could be part of what he had witnessed growing up. Finally he could live.

.

The cell the man now called his home was small, much smaller than even the box bedroom he had at home, the one he kept just in case his little girl ever got better. The family lawyer had said there was a chance she would have been allowed to live with him, that he could fight for custody, fight to get her back. That was all a farfetched dream now. There was no way he would get her back, not even when, no if, he got released. Twenty years minimum for attempted murder, his girl would be an adult by then, well she would have been if he hadn't messed up. That was something he would have to live with for the rest of his life. Covering his face with scarred hands, he let out a string of curse words, unwilling to break down and show weakness. He had to get out of there without a scratch, he had to find a way to save his girl.

Maybe this was punishment for not being there when she was younger? Now he would have to live with the knowledge that he could have saved her if only he had done a better job, if only he had made something of himself. But he couldn't change it now, couldn't go back no matter how much he wished it was possible. How had his life gone so wrong? It wasn't that long ago he was training to be a mechanic with the hopes of opening his own shop, perhaps saving up enough money to buy a holiday home, somewhere he could take his daughter.

None of that was even remotely possible now, and he hated that he only had himself to blame. That little girl was his whole life. From the first time he laid eyes on her he knew that his only purpose in life was to protect her, which he soon found out was easier said than done, especially with her mother defying him at every turn. There was no way her mother and that boyfriend of her's would pay for the treatment his girl needed so badly. They barely even bought food for her, not that social services would pay any attention to his pleas now. He'd be labelled a meddling convict for sure. There had to be a way for him to help her. For him to make it all better. His little girl deserved that much.

.

There is a certain calming sensation to watching the world go by in a blur of colour and gusts of wind that chilled even the healthiest of people to the bone. Annessa hadn't been on a rollercoaster since before she got sick, at least five years ago. That was the last time she'd heard her parents say they loved her, the last time her sister had been left unsupervised. From the day of the diagnosis she was basically treated as an outcast, a trouble maker, an attention seeker. Those that didn't just stared at her with those sympathetic eyes, throwing gifts her way in the hopes of appearing to care without getting emotionally invested. That was until Harry and Severus came along. They treated her like a normal human being, and not a germ-riddled child that everybody needed to stay away from. Something even her own parents couldn't do.

Was it bad that she preferred the company of a man she had met only a short time ago to that of her flesh and blood? People say you can't pick your family, but in a way she had. Even if her parents showed up out of the blue and offered to take her to Hawaii for the remainder of her days, to spend some quality time with her, she would refuse. There was only one relative she ever wanted to see, and that was Cayda. There had been times in her life that Annessa hated the kid, especially when she took things without asking, or invaded her privacy and followed her around like a lost sheep. But there wasn't a day that went by in the hospital that she didn't think of the little fairy princess that on the day of the diagnosis had come to her with that plastic wand she used to carry everywhere, claiming it would make Annessa all better. How she wished that was true.

The naivety of childhood was something she wished she still had. The kid would be turning ten soon, and was moving into the last year of primary school after the summer. The little four year old that had promised fairy magic would solve all of her problems had disappeared along with her parents happiness, along with the glue that had stuck the family together. It was kind of like the tacky stuff you get on Get Well Cards. When you first receive the cardboard token, everything is as it should be. Perfectly stuck down, with glitter borders and ribbon bows. But pretty soon the decorations begin to fall, and the glitter coats the window sill. Pretty soon all that is left is a bunch of gloop that sticks to everything but the card. Pretty soon you have nothing left but the memory of what it once looked like. Pretty soon everything you took for granted is gone. And then all you can do is mourn the loss and pretend that it didn't mean much to you anyway. All you can do is retreat. All you can do is die.

* * *

A/N: This chapter turned out differently than I had originally anticipated but I hope you liked it all the same. Leave a review before you go on with the rest of your life! I'd love to hear from each and every one of you guys! :)

I couldn't just put Harry's attacker out of my mind and forget I'd ever created him so that is why he makes a sudden appearance in this chapter in case you were wondering.

I may be going out tomorrow during the day, and then I have cadets at night so I'm unsure whether I'll get round to writing another chapter but it will be up before the end of the week!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	53. Chapter 53: Back Inside

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine!

Thank you to dragonlady for reviewing! I will be delving deeper into what happens to the other characters, don't worry I haven't forgot about them, in fact the child that the man took to the hospital will make an appearance pretty soon! (I bet nobody can guess who she is!) ;) We also have more Followers and Favouriters so welcome to those!

I'm almost caught up on Orange Is The New Black! (That show has killed me internally, I'm so emotionally invested now!) I started watching it three days ago and I only have six more episodes left in season 2 so by tomorrow I'll have absolutely nothing to do but write another chapter and watch CSI so you guys are in luck!

* * *

Caught in the middle of a crossfire

Lost my balance on a high wire

Trying to figure out what to do

Pushed to the edge of my reason

Everywhere around me it's treason

I don't want to do that to you

Kamikaze airplanes in the sky

Are we going down or will we fly?

This could be a shipwreck on the shore

Or we could sail away forevermore

This time it's sink or swim, sink or swim

Tyrone Wells - Sink Or Swim

* * *

He should never have left the hospital. Snape held his head in both hands, watching as the doctors and nurses worked on his girl, hooking her up to every single machine they could think of in the hopes of breathing a little more life into her. Why did he think it would ever be a good idea to take her outside? Clearly she was too sick for the trip. What sort of father was he? Harry placed a hand on his shoulder, those green orbs of sadness making him feel ten times worse, he didn't deserve his kids.

"Mr Snape? Annessa will be fine. She's a little dehydrated, and her heartrate is a cause for concern but she should pull through." The woman closed the paper file, her eyes sweeping over his unwashed appearance. "You got lucky, don't let it happen again."

He wouldn't. There was no way he would put them in danger again, not ever. Annessa could have died all because he had wanted Harry to like him again, all because he had wanted to make them happy. But happiness didn't matter if they were dead. From now on he was going to keep them locked up so tight they'd wish they were in prison instead, no germs were going to infect his babies and make them worse. So what if they hated him because of it. Their health was much more important than their happiness. Right?

.

He was done. Done with nurses. Done with parents. And most definitely done with ex-wives. Okay, so the latter one was only one ex-wife, but she had been making Whittker's life hell for weeks. Was his happiness too hard for her to watch? It was as if she had an inbuilt radar telling her that his life was too joyful. He wouldn't mind if she actually had a proper excuse for harassing him, but there was no legimate reason for him to give her the money she claimed he owed for a baby she supposedly had of his. They had been divorced for two years now, and he hadn't seen her for six months before that so when he had the time to impregnate her he didn't know. That woman loved destroying his life in as many ways as possible.

"You got a minute?"

Jumping at the sudden shift from silence, he quickly nodded at his most frequent visitor, snapping shut the file on his desk. "How can I help you?" They seemed to be loping into some form of routine that always went along the same lines, in fact Whittker was surprised the man had appeared sooner, especially after what happened earlier.

"Look Doctor Whittker-"

Holding up his hand, he pushed a mug of coffee towards the father. "Please, call me Henry, I think we've seen enough of each other to get past the formalities."

"Henry then, I know you're a busy man and everything but I need to ask you a favour."

Intrigued, he leaned closer, had he found something to do with his son's treatment that Whittker himself had overlooked? "What sort of favour? I can't guarantee anything but I'm open to trying."

"The thing, the man that attacked my son, he had a daughter, a sick little girl going through the same things as Harry and Annessa." Noting the confusion written across Whittker's face, Snape continued. "She needs a special treatment, a treatment they can only do in the states, and I, well I want to help her, I want to pay for it all, I just don't know where to begin."

.

"Rough night?"

Flicking his eyes up, Harry offered the intruder a small smile, swiping at the stray tears that fell down his cheeks. Why was nothing in his life simple? What he wouldn't give to go back to that first year of Hogwarts, the initial freedom he felt from being away from the Dursley's. Even those years with the Dursley's were preferable than the pain he felt now. The pain he felt when he was younger was at least visible on the outside, this just ate at his heart, leaving no physical wounds.

"I talked with your dad, he'll be back sometime tomorrow."

Great! Snape sent a babysitter. Doctor Whittker was the best doctor he'd had, but Harry was sick and tired of adults making every single decision in his life. He was fourteen years old, not a little kid, he really didn't need someone watching him 24/7. As young as four the Dursley's had left him by himself while they went off on Holiday or to parties. Granted he was locked in the cellar but there was no one to check on him either way and he'd been just fine most of the time.

"Just so you know, Severus didn't send me up here, I just figured you'd need some company with every thing that's been going on round here, I know what it's like feeling so helpless."

Harry somehow doubted that. It was just a thing grownups said to make kids trust them, to make kids open up about their feelings. But Harry was tougher than that, he didn't need to be fed some bogus story. Whittker, while his intentions were probably true, more than likely had no idea how Harry felt. So he had seen patients die, that was all part of his job description, Harry was almost certain that the doctor had never been so emotionally attached to them like he was to Annessa.

If only she was there now, making fun of the man when he turned his back. That was the sort of thing she always did. It was so lonely without her, and it wasn't like he just sneak up to her room again, the nurses had made sure of that. It wasn't fair! He just wanted to see her! Why couldn't they understand that he needed to see her?! He had to! She was fighting for her life up there! He couldn't just leave her alone! He knew what it was like lying there with nobody around! They couldn't keep him here, they couldn't! He'd get to her. One way or another. There wasn't any one in the world that could stop him. She needed him. And he wasn't giving up without a fight.

.

(***RON ALERT***)

Four-hundred and thirty four. That was the number of tiles decorating the ceiling inside his hospital room. Ron repeated that number as he packed up the small selection of things he had acquired in his short stay on the children's ward, completely blocking out the doctor's incessant rambling that had been going on for at least twenty minutes. All that mattered was he was going home. Getting out of the sterile prison that pumped his body full of calories he didn't want or need. His mother hadn't said a word to him all morning, not that he minded, he'd given up talking to her completely, it never did any good anyway. Swinging the backpack onto his shoulder, he plugged himself into his iPod, the comforting sounds of All Time Low blasting into his ears on full volume. Talking was overrated.

Following his mother silently from the room, he couldn't help but flash a triumphant smile at the nurse that had been glued to his side through out his stay, she had said he wouldn't be getting out any time soon, looks like he's shown her. The evening chill seeped into his bones, but Ron was far to happy to complain, he was free! Sliding into the back of the car without even looking at his mother, he rested his head against the window, ignoring the bag of food she placed down next to him, there was no way he was going to eat that. They may have tried to control him in the hospital, but at home there was no way he would abide by their crazy rules, not even if his life depended on it.

Furrowing his brow as they turned away from the direction of the Burrow, he felt a familiar sense of dread pool in his stomach as he recognised the building they were pulling up in front of. Miss Daniels. His mother obviously needed to see a shrink more than he did if she thought he was going to go back to her. Scooting further back, he pressed the lock down on the door, shaking his head as his mother opened the other door. There was no way he was getting out! Her hands reached inside, grabbing hold of his ankles as she tried to pull him from the car. What was she playing at?! Lashing out, he felt his foot connect with something, the hands retracting as she cradled her face. Maybe that would teach her not to mess with him. She had to learn that he wasn't a little kid anymore. And if that was the only way then so be it.

* * *

A/N: Ron may be a little OOC but remember he's a little messed up at the moment.

How you enjoying the story? I hope you're liking it. Hit review and let me know your thoughts :)

I know it's moving quite slow at the moment but it'll get moving faster soon enough!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	54. Chapter 54: When Boredom Sets In

Disclaimer: I still don't own Harry! Any characters in the story that you don't recognise from the Harry Potter series are from my own imagination!

There were no reviews for the previous chapter so I'm just going to assume it was so awesome you guys were speechless ;) Either that or you all hated it so much!

Anyways on with the story!

* * *

My ship went down

In a sea of sound

When I woke up alone I had everything

A handful of moments I wished I could change

And a tongue like a nightmare that cut like a blade

In a city of fools

I was careful and cool

But they tore me apart like a hurricane

A handful of moments I wished I could change

But I was carried away

Give me therapy

I'm a walking travesty

But I'm smiling at everything

Therapy

You were never a friend to me

And you can keep all your misery

All Time Low - Therapy

* * *

"This sucks!"

Harry nodded in agreement, stretching his leg out in front of him in order to get rid of the tingling sensation that had taken over. It had been three whole days since the fairground incident, and Snape barely allowed him up to see Annessa, let alone outside anymore. The only plus side to it all was Miss Ellen had practically camped in his room, performing all the exercises that made his muscles scream from the minute he woke up until he went to sleep at night, and he could now get around without the wheelchair. His steps were more like that of someone who had just had a hip replacement, a sort of shuffle normally reserved for elderly folk, but it worked pretty well in the hospital corridors.

Annessa on the other hand was practically bedridden, not even allowed to visit the play room, and Harry knew exactly how it felt. Sneaking her out wasn't really an option at the moment, not with Snape and the nurses watching them like a hawk at all hours. They just had to make do with a deck of cards and the occasional boardgame, which definitely got boring after the sixtieth time of use. How he had ever managed it when he was younger was a mystery.

"You wanna play Snap?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Harry pushed the magazines to the floor, getting ready for yet another game of the increasingly annoying cards. There had to be something more productive to do with their time. Slamming his hand down on the pile as a matching pair appeared, he gathered the pile into his hands without much enthusiasm, his mind wandering until Annessa snapped her fingers inches from his face.

"Has anyone ever taught you how to play strip poker?"

.

The office was pretty much the same as it had been last time Ron had stepped foot in it, though a new picture now decorated the already crowded wall. Dropping down into the chair, he placed his feet up onto the desk, ignoring his mother's quiet sobs to Miss Daniels. She needed to toughen up, he barely even touched her! There wasn't even that much of a bruise anymore. Hitting shuffle on his iPod, he drowned out the conversation with his music, the ever so fitting song Therapy making him smile. Glancing up as a hand touched his knee, he raised his eyebrows at Miss Daniels' overly cheerful face. Did that woman really feel the need to smile that way at her patients? It was unnerving to say the least.

"Hello again Ronald, not plotting another great escape I hope."

Whatever drugs she was taking, Ron really wanted to try them. There was no way she could be that happy on her own accord. Shifting uncomfortably under her gaze, he turned his attention to the window as he had done that first brief visit. The street below was practically empty this time, probably owing to the fact that it was three in the afternoon, too late for lunch, too early for going home. If he had been at home, he would more than likely be playing Quidditch or degnoming the garden, anything to get away from his mother and siblings. While this was technically getting away from both, it also meant being stuck in a room with a woman that made the energiser bunny look tame.

"Where should we start then? Clearly you have a lot of pent up anger."

Anger? Of course he was angry! Everywhere he turned people were trying to control his life. Telling what and when to eat, how he should have his hair, what he should or shouldn't wear or do. Small children had more freedom than Ron did at the moment, and he was sick of it. So yeah, there was good reason he was pissed off at the world. Not that miss happy-go-lucky would understand that, she probably had the most idyllic childhood imaginable. Sighing, he focused on the flock of birds pecking at the roof diagonal to the building. Life for them must be so easy, how he wished he could say the same for himself.

.

Light filtered into the mystery room, the brightness wreaking havoc on the young girl's eyes. Blinking against her roaring headache, she flicked her eyes from left to right, finding nothing that looked remotely familiar. Where was she? The last thing she remembered was the hotel, and maybe a boat. The memories were all a blur after that. Attempting to raise her arm, she met resistance in the form of an IV, she didn't remember feeling sick at the hotel.

And what was the thing in her throat? Every breath she attempted to make sent fire spiraling into her lungs. Surely that wasn't normal? But then again, if it wasn't why hadn't anybody said anything? Where were her parents anyway? And her sister? She knew the drama queen had been in the hospital when they left but her parents wouldn't keep her in the dark would they?

As soon as that question entered her mind she could already answer it. It sounded just like something their parents would do. In fact, ever since her sister got sick they had been acting so strange, as if they didn't even want anybody near her. It wasn't like the illness was contagious, so the way their parents were acting was just stupid and unnecessary. She loved them, of course she did, but they made no sense most of the time.

It hadn't always been that way. When they were younger everything had been normal, well as normal as it could be. Their parents were overly cautious, but then again they did have good reason to be. While neither of them had personally been alive when their brother had disappeared, they had heard plenty stories from cousins. But it had been pretty ordinary until her sister had gotten sick.

Coughing at the sudden dryness of her lungs, she once again attempted to free herself from the tubes, unable to move even a few inches without pain searing through her body. Whatever had happened between the hotel and now was obviously bad. Closing her eyes as fatigue washed over her, she let sleep claim her, barely even registering the figure that entered her room before her world turned black.

.

"Dudley? Dudley it's almost five in the evening, you need to get up."

Groaning at the invasion of his sleep, Dudley turned over, burrowing further beneath the covers in an attempt to remain unconscious. Shivering as his pyjama clad body was exposed to the evening chill, he let out a small groan, cracking an eye open at his foster mother. Had he really slept that long? Swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he silently followed the woman down the stairs, not even bothering to get dressed. It wasn't like he was going anywhere today.

"Dudley? Randal and I have decided that if your school work improves by the end of next week we'll talk to Harry's new guardian and see if you can visit him, okay?"

Quickly nodding his head, he devoured the meal in front of him, almost asking for seconds before remembering about his new diet. It had gotten less painful, the hunger that plagued him, and in a few more months it would probably be gone completely. Just another thing that his father had damaged. Smiling as a brownie was pushed into his line of sight, he took a bite, looking up in alarm at the sudden pounding on the door. That amount of knocking was never a good sign. It was normally reserved for Vernon or his henchmen, at least that was the only thing that Dudley could connect it to.

Holding his breath as Randal approached the door, Dudley heard hushed voices, and footsteps pounding closer to the kitchen. Sliding from the chair as Mary rushed out into the hallway, he tugged at the backdoor handle, screaming as hands gripped his forearms. Reaching back, he clawed at his attacker, struggling against the person with all of his might. One thing was certain, he wasn't going down without a fight.

* * *

A/N: Another chapter finished! Can anybody guess who Dudley's attacker is?

Reviews make my day because my social life literally consists of three people outside of my family at the moment and I love seeing what you guys have to say about the story! :)

I'm not even going to give an estimated time for the next one because whenever I say a day it's always late! So you'll get the next one when I'm next on my laptop!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	55. Chapter 55: Four Days To Decide

Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry!

Sorry for making you guys wait so long for a new chapter! I've been writing a book which I'm hoping to send to a Literary Agent and I've currently on chapter 7, so I've been working on that most of the week.

Thank you to , Kendra Dhyanna, and mvv96 for reviewing! I love you guys! :)

Kendra Dhyanna Vernon was a good guess but not right.

I'd also like to thank the people that Followed and Favourited! Welcome to our little family :)

Anyways on with the story!

* * *

I can almost see it.

That dream I'm dreaming, but

There's a voice inside my head saying

You'll never reach it

Every step I'm takin'

Every move I make

Feels lost with no direction,

My faith is shakin'

But I, I gotta keep tryin'

Gotta keep my head held high

There's always gonna be another mountain

I'm always gonna wanna make it move

Always gonna be an uphill battle

Sometimes I'm gonna have to lose

Ain't about how fast I get there

Ain't about what's waitin' on the other side

It's the climb

Miley Cyrus - The Climb

* * *

"Dudley! Dudley stop!"

Mary? But hadn't the person attacking him hurt her? It didn't make any sense. If it was Vernon or one of his goons then Dudley knew for a fact both Mary and Randal would be dead, so it had to be someone else. But who? He didn't know anyone in the neighbourhood, and his foster parents hadn't had any visitors that he knew of.

"Dudley calm down! It's okay! They aren't here to hurt you."

Stilling, Dudley counted backwards from ten, his breaths coming out in short sharp gasps. Was that what a panic attack feels like? Harry used to get them when they were toddlers, and Vernon would always laugh and make fun of him. Dudley laughed too, to please his father, but deep down it terrified him. He guessed this was karma for all them times.

"I want you to turn around for me, it's okay I promise, you just need to turn around."

Turn around? But what if that person tried to grab him again? He didn't want to get kidnapped! Slowly turning his body, he cracked open one eye, his cheeks turning beet red as he took in the visitors.

"Good evening Dudley, I'm PC Rowlings and this is PC Hashworth, we need you to do something for us."

.

The scene on which Snape happened to stumble upon that early evening was not one he ever wished to repeat. Harry sat stripped down to his boxershorts, while Annessa had somehow lost her pyjama t-shirt, both were grinning foolishly at each other. This was why he didn't leave Harry alone. "What on earth is going on here?" Harry jumped so hard his cards flew everywhere, leaving a breathless Annessa almost in tears from laughing so hard. At least someone found it funny, even if Snape didn't.

"We were just..." Annessa bit her lip in concentration for a few seconds before her eyes suddenly lit up. "We were playing truth or dare?"

Even Snape wasn't stupid enough to fall for that one. "Truth or dare? I don't think so Annessa, I did play my fair share of games in school and that was not part of it, so I'll ask again, what was it?"

Sighing, she tugged the top back over her head with some amount of difficulty, still trying to catch her breath. "Strip poker." Seeing the look of horror cross over Snape's face, she quickly continued. "We were bored, and there's only so many times you can play Snap or Go Fish, don't blame Harry though, it was my idea!"

Why did he never have a normal day? "It's time to go Harry." The young boy's head snapped up, tears clouding his eyes. The chemo was making him far to emotional. "You have radiation, you can come back later." Taking an arm to steady him as he shuffled towards the door, Snape winked in Annessa's direction, earning a smile in return.

He honestly didn't know if Harry would have gotten this far without her. Not that they didn't have their problems. But then again who didn't? All that mattered was that she was still here, and because of that Harry was still fighting. Nodding at the nurse as they lowered Harry into the wheelchair, he rubbed the unruly hair along his jaw line. It was going to get a hell of a lot worse before it got better, and he really wasn't ready for the storm that was to come.

.

Hermoine Granger flung the open book across her room, watching as it hit the wall and fell limply to the floor. The Hogwarts train left in four days, and she still hadn't heard from Ron or Harry. Of course Harry had an excuse, he probably wouldn't be going to school that year, but Ron should have replied by now! Stooping down to save the novel she had been so careless with, she brushed off the cover before checking for any sort of damage that may have occurred with her out of control temper. She was worried, about her friends, and school, and everything inbetween. What if Ron never showed up and she was left alone? Of course she had other friends, or at least she thought she did, but what if they didn't want her tagging along? What then?

Her chest sat already packed against the south wall, only missing the few supplies she needed to collect from Diagon Alley which she would normally do with Harry and Ron. Her parents had promised if neither got in touch then they would take her in two days, but she had kind of been hoping one of the boys would be able to keep her company, it was getting a little much having her parents hovering around like flies all the time.

Penning yet another letter to Ron, she tied it the owl currently sitting on her windowsill, watching as it disappeared out of sight before returning to her desk and looking over the last of her summer homework. She had finished it weeks ago, but it had to be flawless and any mistake would just be horrific. If Ron didn't reply by tomorrow she would owl Ginny or Mrs Weasley instead. Mind made up she carefully scanned through the paragraphs of ink, muttering the words aloud. She would get to bottom of Ron's lack of owls.

.

"Daddy! Daddy!"

The four year old ball of energy Whittker fondly referred to as bug came bounding into the study, his eyes bright as he clutched a new soft animal in his hands. Elijah Whittker, one of the only things in the world he loved more than his job. "What is it little bug? Daddy's working right now."

The boy's face crumpled slightly at his father's dismissal, he always seemed to be working. "Daddy look what I getted!"

They were going to have to have a serious talk about the English language. Knowing he wasn't going to get any more work done now, Whittker capped the pen and let it fall onto the table before scooping up the child. "It's very nice El-J, did mummy get it you?"

Nodding enthusiastically, Elijah glanced down at the notes spread across the desk, his head tilting to one side and pointing to a picture. "He sick?"

Stroking the boy's hair, Whittker nodded, flipping over the photograph of Harry. His little boy didn't need to see how bad Harry was. "Yeah bug, he's very sick so I'm trying to make him better."

"Like Asa?"

His heart stopped in his chest at the question, every emotion hitting him like a ton of bricks. "Go help mummy with dinner Elijah, I'll be through shortly." His tone adopted a hard edge to it, startling the little boy so much tears began to silently roll down his cheeks.

"Daddy mad?"

Not even bothering to answer, Whittker pointed to the door, his head in his hands. He had to get back to work. He had a child to save.

* * *

A/N: How did I do? Let me know in the reviews! :)

The next chapter will be up as soon as I can get around to writing it! It may be later this week but I make no promises!

Seeya soon, nicholosaur :)


	56. Chapter 56: Breaking Free

Disclaimer: Still no!

I am so sorry for making you wait so long! The exams are all over and we recently changed timetables at school so I'm now in S6! I'm also about halfway through one of the books I'm writing so hopefully I'll get back into the routine of writing chapters for this again! If not you guys have permission to slap me across the face repeatedly ;)

Thank you to Kendra Dhyanna for reviewing! You're amazing :)

Onwards!

* * *

Run for your life, my love

Run and you don't give up

All that you are

All that you want

Run for your life right now

And if you don't know how

I'll come back with you and take all that's true

And leave all that's burned behind

Run for your life

The Fray - Run For Your Life

* * *

The nurse gave Dudley a tight-lipped smile as she wiped the area on the crook of his elbow that would be her puncture sight, the smell of alcohol and disinfectant filling his nose. They had taken a mouth swab, but this was a precautionary measure to test for a thing he had never even heard of. Apparently it may run in his family. Perhaps that was what Harry had?

"A sharp scratch."

He flinched as it burrowed under his skin, blinking back tears. Why couldn't they let him just go back home with Mary and sleep for the rest of his life? He didn't like the doctors surgery, or the police station, or the woman that introduced herself as a family liaison, whatever that was. It was as if everybody liked shaking up his world at every single opportunity, which just wasn't fair.

"Your parents are outside, I'll send them in."

His heart stuttered at the thought of Vernon being allowed to visit, his breaths quick and uneven. They couldn't allow him in! Dudley hadn't done anything wrong, not to Mary or Randal anyway! They wouldn't just send him back, would they? Pressing himself into a corner, he squeezed his eyes shut, covering his ears and praying nothing would happen. He didn't want to die, not here, not yet, he hadn't told Harry how sorry he was yet. And Vernon would most definitely kill him, there was no denying that. Letting out a small cry, he buried his head in his knees. He should never have spoken to the police about Vernon. And he was an idiot for thinking it would all be okay. Nobody double-crossed Vernon Dursley and got away with it. Nobody.

.

Whittker was not a happy man. He stared down at the file he had prepared for Harry, his hand tightening in his hair as he tried to make out what it said. That was the last time he let Elijah anywhere near the art supplies. The kid knew how important his work was, and he still went and scribbled all over it. He'd never had this problem with Asa. Shaking his head to banish that thought, he breathed out a sigh. That wasn't fair, and he knew it. When Elijah had been born he promised his wife that he would never compare the children, never pick a favourite, never make Elijah feel like he wasn't as important. That kid meant the world to him.

"Doctor Whittker? Harry's results from the scan." The nurse stepped further into the room, dropping the folder onto the desk. "And his latest bloodwork."

Nodding in thanks, he sent up a silent prayer before flipping open both files. Hoping it was good news at last. Double, and then triple checking both, he jumped up from his seat, flying down the corridors in search of Severus. He had to discuss the results right away. Locating him in the canteen, Whittker blew out a breath, smoothing out his lab coat before striding towards the table. "Severus? I just received-"

"Mr Snape! Harry and Annessa are gone!"

.

"I feel like a prisoner."

Harry looked up from his spot by Annessa's side, his hands stilling from their tube twirling. He knew exactly how she felt. It wasn't that long ago that he was stuck in the isolation bubble, and now the roles had been reversed. It sucked, and if there wasn't so many nurses around he would have smuggled her out ages ago. Which brought him to his next idea. There was a conference down in the theatre, so only a handful of nurses were actually patrolling the halls, and most of them were on a coffee break at that exact moment. Snape had disappeared down to the canteen about twenty minutes ago, so he wasn't due back for another hour and fourty minutes minimum. Why couldn't they just leave for an hour or so? It's not like anything would happen. Mind made up, Harry carefully slid from the bed, rolling the wheelchair across the room. In the extra lengthy stay he'd had at the hospital, Harry had become an expert at turning off the machines with as little disruption as possible, and throughout it all Annessa didn't breathe a word, as if she knew they had to keep quiet without Harry telling her otherwise.

Pushing the chair with some difficulty from the room, he manoeuvred her towards the lift, grateful that nobody seemed to think it unusual that they were wandering along the corridors in the early evening. In fact, even the receptionist at the desk didn't look up as they stepped through the automatic doors and out into the world.

Breathing in the cool air, Harry tilted back his head, relishing in the breeze that washed over him. It felt nice to be out in the open, especially after being cooped up in a stuffy room where the windows didn't even open. Screw the germs! He needed to be outside, and so did Annessa. Snape would be beyond livid when he found out, but Harry couldn't bring himself to care. He would deal with that when it happened. Until then he would live.

.

(***RON ALERT***)

Pig hooted softly as Ron silently paced his room, chewing on his bottom lip as he listened to his parents shouting below. They didn't argue often, and he knew it was all his fault that they had started now. All he'd wanted was to go to school with Hermione, but apparently that wasn't very wise. Arthur was on his side. Molly on the otherhand wanted nothing more than to rap him in bubble wrap and keep him locked up in the Burrow until he turned fifty.

It wasn't fair! Ron needed to go to school, to feel normal. No muggle therapists, or doctors, or hospitals. Just a year of Quidditch and lessons and killing Malfoy. Anybody else would see that was a good idea, so why couldn't Molly? Sighing as the argument got louder, he jumped as the door creaked open and Ginny stuck her head round the door, tears staining her cheeks. It was hard to believe she was only a year younger than him.

"They won't stop." Her voice was no more than a whisper.

Anger welled up inside him as he hugged her close, shaking his head furiously. It was all his fault, he knew that, this time though he wasn't angry at himself, but his parents. They had no right to upset his little sister! She hadn't done anything. She shouldn't have to witness them at each other's throats.

"Stay here." Pounding down the stairs, he ignored his sister's cries for him to stop, not even bothering to glance at the twins or Percy who all popped their head's out the door as he passed. Red clouded his vision, his heart thumping fiercely in his chest. They had no right! Throwing himself into kitchen, he rounded on Molly, his eyes narrowed, his breathing heavy. "Stop! Just stop!"

Both adults froze.

"I get it okay?! It's my fault! I destroyed the family! Just stop!" He wouldn't cry. Wouldn't breakdown.

Molly reached out a hand, retracting it before it reached his shoulder. "Ronal-"

"I know it's true! You won't even touch me anymore! But that doesn't mean you can upset Ginny!"

Her shoulders slumped as she stared at him, tears pricking her eyes. "It's not li-"

"Stop lying! I know you're ashamed of me! Aren't you?!"

His shouted question was met with silence, Molly's eyes dropping to the floor as she wiped the tears that began to fall. Of course he knew that already, but It still didn't stop it from hurting. "I'm going to school." All of the fight had evaporated from him. "I'm sorry for being such a disappointment." Squeezing his eyes shut to stop himself to breaking down, he fled out of the front door, Molly's sobs following him as he ran. All his fault! There was no denying it now. They never really wanted him. At least now he knew. At least now he could make them happy.

* * *

A/N: It's not the best chapter in the world but I've got so much homework right now, and I'm hoping to get my book finished so I can send it to a Literary Agent. Let me know what you think about it though in the reviews! :)

The next chapter will be up as soon as I get round to writing another one. I've only got two weeks and three days left at school before the Summer Holidays so once I'm free for six weeks and five days the chapters should become more regular.

Ron may have seemed a little OOC in this one but this is what was playing through my head when I started writing it so I apologise if it doesn't seem quite Ron-like.

Any suggestions are welcomed with open arms!

Thank you for reading, and I'll see you next post!

nicholosaur :)


	57. Chapter 57: Cold Night

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling still owns Harry Potter

I haven't posted in ages and I am so sorry! My mental health hasn't been the best but hopefully I'll be starting therapy soon to help. We also got a husky puppy a few weeks ago but we think I might be allergic to it because I haven't stopped sneezing, I'm just gonna have to grin and bear it though because it was my mother's birthday present and there is no way we're getting rid of him. School's pretty calm at the moment so I really need to get back into the swing of writing this regularly, hopefully I'll start remembering again!

Thank you to Kendra Dhyanna, Paige, vonny25, Lillian snape, Stacey's Universe, and LSilvertongue for reviewing the previous chapter!

Stacey's Universe your suggestions were very much appreciated and will help me make the story even better so thank you :)

LSilvertongue, in regards to Ron: he was sent to a muggle therapist because they know how to deal with issues such as a loved one or friend having cancer more than Wizarding therapists would due to the fact that cancer is a pretty rare disease amongst magical folk. The reason he had an IV was because he collapsed in a park in London, and so was taken to a muggle hospital by the people who found him which is what would normally happen. And nutrition potions would only work if he actually willing took them and didn't exercise continuously like he is doing. I'm sorry if he or any of the other people seem out of character but it's just how I see them in my head :)

Anyways on with the story!

* * *

It was a cold night, we laid with each other just to stay warm.

Up all hours, not for the last time.

As it's a cold life, stay with each other one last time.

We could always run away some other night.

I knew the moment I met you,

I could never lose you.

I knew the moment I met you.

Don't you let me go this time.

Don't you let me go this time.

Don't go baby, it's time for us you know.

Don't go honey, this way we'll never know.

Don't go honey, this way we'll never know.

You Me At Six - Cold Night

* * *

The wind whistled through the trees, picking up leaves as it fought against the many obstacles in its path, sending them swirling upwards in an almost tornado effect. Harry watched, mesmerised, as they floated back downwards, only to be hoisted up again by another gust. The temperature was beginning to dip, and he inwardly cursed his stupidity for not bringing Annessa a coat. He could survive without one, but she was a lot sicker than he was. Shrugging off the thin jacket he used as his lounge wear inside the hospital, he draped it round her shoulders, ignoring the way the coldness bit at his bare arms.

"Snape's gonna kill us." Her eyes sought his, twinkling with a light he hadn't seen in days. "But it'll so be worth it."

What would he be without her? She always made everything better. Nodding, he rubbed a hand along his arm, his teeth chattering together. He could do this, he could sit there forever if it made her happy, he didn't need warmth.

"So... w-which... w-w-way... back?" Her breathing came out in short gasps as her teeth bounced against each other, her face even paler than usual.

Harry scrunched up his face, turning his head from left to right. In all honesty he hadn't really been paying attention to the way they had gone from their current sleeping place, and he had no idea how to get back. Breathing out a sigh, he pulled his knees up to his chest, Annessa's head on his shoulder. She felt hot despite the chill that was seeping into both their bones, much too hot. Looking up at the sky he sent a silent prayer for Snape to go find them. Harry didn't care if he got sick himself, but Annessa was much too fragile, she couldn't handle another infection. He just hoped someone found them in time.

.

Ron never thought he'd be so happy to see the train that would transport him to school for another year of learning. Squirming away from Molly's grasp as she opened her mouth to give yet another lecture, he deposited his trunk with the rest of them, following the crowd as they made their way down the train in search of a seat. Hermione was easy to spot, sat with a book pressed close to her face, her eyes following the words down the page. Ron almost laughed, grateful for the first sign of normality in a long while. Dropping down across from her, he pulled out his own book, something that damn therapist had suggested. Admittedly it was actually pretty good, he wasn't going to tell her that though, he hoped to never see her again.

"Good morning Ronald." Hermione's eyes never left the book. "How was your summer?" Of course she already knew, having seen him just two days ago when his mother had forced him into Diagon Alley to get supplies, and the unasked question hung between them. All she really wanted to know was if he was okay, something she didn't think would be right to just blurt out.

"Fine." His answer left no room for discussion, and she was forced to drop the subject. Turning the page, Ron snuck a glance at her, their eyes meeting for the briefest moment before he quickly looked away.

"He's going to be fine."

He pretended not to hear, his heart stuttering in his chest. He just hoped she was right, for the sake of all of them.

.

When Snape got his hands on the two trouble makers there would hell to pay. This was the second time Harry had left the hospital without telling anyone, and Annessa was much too fragile to be out in such cold weather without proper protective clothing, not to mention neither of them had their masks. Scrubbing his face with his hands, he scanned the street as Whittker turned down yet another road, the only sound the engine cutting through the morning air. They had been out for at least three nights now, and though he knew Harry wouldn't be stupid enough to sleep outdoors, there was no telling what conditions they were actually sleeping in.

"Did Harry ever mention anything about London? Special places he liked to visit?"

Shaking his head, Snape let out a string of explicits, balling his hands into fists. He didn't the first thing about where Harry went as a child, but of course he must have had a safe haven, somewhere to go to escape Vernon. Pulling out his phone as an idea entered his mind, he quickly found the number he needed, pressing dial. Waiting impatiently for the person on the other end to enter, to breathed a sigh of relief when they eventually did. "I need to speak with Dudley."

.

It was raining. Harry felt the first tiny pinprick of water hit his skin, before the rest followed suit in quick succession. They had to find a way back before Annessa got any sicker. Slowly climbing to his feet, he ignored the headache that had blossomed within the hour, pushing the wheelchair down the street in what he thought was the right direction. Annessa stayed silent, her eyes barely open. Harsh coughs ripped through her chest and Harry's heart, small flecks of blood dried around her lips. She was going to be fine. He repeated it in his head over and over, his hands tightening around the handles of the chair, his steps growing quicker despite the protesting of his muscles. Once they were indoors she'd be perfectly fine, and they'd laugh about it around the fire.

"H-h-harry?" Her voice was no more than a whisper. "I... d-don't... w-w-want to... g-go... b-back to... h-hospi-ital."

He shook his head, finally seeing a familiar landmark. They were close, only about ten minutes away, she could wait that long. Everything was going to be okay. It had to be. Nothing would go wrong, she wasn't that sick. She wasn't ready to die just yet.

"R-remember... t-t-the... book."

A single tear slid down his cheek as he nodded, a small smile forced onto his lips. They had spent hours poured over that book, planning her funeral, and what would happen to all of her things. He hated the thing, it made it seem like it would be set in stone, like there was no way of saving her. He wouldn't give up that easily. He wouldn't let her lose her fight. They'd gone way too far for that to happen. His world would fall apart without her.

"I-I'm... s-s-sorry... I... l-love... y-you."

Biting his lip until he tasted blood, he squeezed his eyes shut as she drifted out of consciousness, the tears managing to break free. His eyes stung against the cold as he reopened them, pushing her along the pavement though his legs felt as though they were made of lead. The small wooden hut they called their home was a relief to see, and he almost ran to it, the warmth of the fire instantly greeting him as he pushed open the door. Annessa didn't movement, the only sound her breathing, short and painful. She was going to be fine. He carried on repeating it, this time with more force. He just hoped he was right.

* * *

A/N: I know it's short but it's kind of hard to think of things when I'm sneezing about six times every twenty minutes! I hope you liked it, write a review and tell me your thoughts :)

I have no idea when I'll get the next one done as I'm seeing the school nurse tomorrow about my mental health problems so I may not be in the mood to right another chapter!

I'll see you next post, nicholosaur :)


	58. Chapter 58: The Comfort Water Brings

Disclaimer: I still in no way, shape or form own Harry Potter

I'm such a bad author and I apologise to you all for such a long delay! I went to an Alexandria concert on Sunday and got home Monday evening so I was really tired and didn't really want to finish this off, which was the same as yesterday because I fell asleep super early. On the plus side I actually got to meet the entire band! And I got a photo with Cameron so I can officially die happy! I've also been referred to a mental health worker so that should start soon! Thank you all for your support of this story despite me not being able to post much, it means a lot especially with everything that's going on in my life at the moment!

Thank you to Earl Ghostwood, ECYA, and EvilDime for reviewing! You guy's rock :)

Anyways enough about me! On with the story!

* * *

I think I've already lost you

I think you're already gone

I think I'm finally scared now

And you think I'm weak, I think you're wrong

I think you're already leaving

Feels like your hand is on the door

I thought this place was an empire

And now I'm relaxed and I can't be sure

Matchbox20 - If You're Gone

* * *

There was something almost magical about being beside the water, watching as the waves crashed against the small pier, swallowing it whole before spitting it back out in a concoction of bubbles and foam. It was as if all of his worries disappeared along with the splintered wood, sinking to the bottom of the sea before swimming back to the surface in a sort of frenzy as another cough broke the silence from beside him. He'd always loved the water. Whenever things got bad, and growing up they so often had, he would find solace in the murky water that showed no mercy. It was wild and free, something he had always craved. And like him the sea held many untold secrets. Secrets kept so well guarded even the most expert divers could not find them. That too reminded him of himself, of the life he had led when his childhood ended and the nightmare began.

One is far too young to grow up, to have your childhood come to an abrupt end with no warning. The sea fought back against anything that attempted to break its calm, he envied that the most. It was something he could never do. Of course he had tried, and in doing so had protected someone else from everything he couldn't protect himself from, but he had never managed to stop it, and so he escaped to the watery wonderland he loved to call his own. Things were different now. He wasn't fighting a person, battling with someone he should have been able to trust. Now he was battling with himself, and he was afraid that the monster inside of him would win, taking everyone he loved with it. He wasn't ready to say goodbye, and as another cough echoed through the night, he found himself reaching out for the comfort the water would bring. He didn't want to live without her. Didn't want to let her go. It wasn't fair! But he knew one thing for sure. If she was going, he wouldn't let her go alone.

.

"They'll be alright." Whittker's voice held so much authority, so much assurance that even Snape nodded slightly. That didn't help himself though, not when he knew the statistics. Annessa was dying. There was no other way to put it. The treatment had been stopped for a while, and she was only deteriorating further with every day that passed. Harry wouldn't be much better off, not with the cold nights that stretched out. How could they have been so stupid? Deep down he knew the answer to that question, and it broke his heart. Annessa was never really his patient, he hadn't gotten to know her as well as Harry or Snape had. But even he felt the sharpness in his heart at the thought of her life being cut short, the sickness that coiled in his stomach like a snake. She didn't deserve to die. And Harry, sweet gentle Harry. A boy that showed only love to those around him. A boy that even in his current predicament still went out of his way to give a dying girl a few days of happiness. Whittker saw the way Harry looked at Annessa, the fierceness of the love that boy felt for her. All teenagers face their first heartbreak at some point or another, but it shouldn't be like that, shouldn't be so brutal, so cruel. They both deserved better.

"They'll have gone inside, out of the wind, they're smart enough to find shelter." The only response he got was a small grunt as Snape stared unforgivingly at the wind, his cold gaze sweeping along the shore, taking in every patch of land as they passed. Dudley had mentioned Harry's fascination with water, the sea in particular, and though he had no specific location, it was a start. Cranking open the window, Whittker stifled a yawn and gripped the steering wheel tighter, the silence eating away at him.

"I'm a terrible father."

Looking up in surprise, he caught a single tear roll down his passenger's cheek before that same steely look invaded his eyes and he once again became a man of stone. "You took Annessa in as your own, held her hand through the hardest part of her life." Reaching over, he gently squeezed the man's knee. "You're the best father I've ever met." And what propelled him into speeding down that coastal road in the small hours of the morning was the tiny glimmer of hope that sparkled in Snape's eyes. He may not be anything special, but he knew a hero when he saw one, and he definitely knew even hero's need reassurance every now and then. Even hero's need hope.

.

Dudley was more than ready to strangle the social worker that sat before him, a smug look on his face as if he had just won the lottery and was not in fact telling a child he had to be moved from his current foster home. That condescending smile of his only seemed to grow as he skimmed down the notes in the paper file held on his lap, containing information Dudley would probably never see.

He didn't want to move, didn't want to leave his foster parents. They had been kind, loving, everything his real parents weren't. And now he was simply expected to just pack up and move along, to be passed around like a parcel at a birthday party, ready for the music to stop and a new owner to pounce upon the wrapped gift for a short while. He didn't want to be just another file in a social worker's desk, another burden. Why couldn't he be with Harry? Harry had already been adopted, and his new dad seemed like everything they had ever dreamed of. So why couldn't he have something like that too? Why did he have to be the one nobody wanted?

"I have some great news Dudley." The man smiled so wide Dudley was sure his face would split open. "We've managed to locate your parents."

.

The clock ticked by so slowly in the empty house as Molly Weasley eyed the stack of letters her husband had prevented her from sending. She wanted to check up on her son, to make sure he was okay, that he was coping, but Arthur had refused. Of course he had good reason to, she too often smothered the boy in an attempt to help him, and they had seen how disastrous that had been. That didn't stop her from sending a letter or two to Hermione though, in order to appease her curiousity and motherly instincts that screamed for her to do something more. She was slowly losing her boy. Ron was slipping through her fingers, slowly but surely turning into something she barely recognised. He was in pain, she knew that. They all were. Harry was such a big part of his life, and that part had been shredded and torn apart to expose a wound so big even stitches wouldn't cure it. And all she could do was watch.

She longed to sweep Ron up in her arms and tell him over and over again that everything would be okay, that she'd find a way to fix things. But it had been weeks since he had let her even lay a finger on him, and probably even longer since he had trusted a word she said. He was sick. Not like Harry, or the children he had met in the hospital. No, his sickness had rooted itself deep within his brain, whispering sickening lies, promising freedom for the sacrifice of food, for the sacrifice of happiness. His illness was silent, it crept up on them without anyone realising, and if he let it continue, it would most certainly be deadly. Yet what could she do? Nothing, not one single thing. It hurt her to think that right now the best thing for Ron was to be away from the Burrow, and away from her. He needed space to think, and school was the ultimate distraction for him. Even still, the pangs of guilt and desperation crept up on her as she sat in that empty house day after day, staring at the marks her son had left upon the home. The small finger-painting he had been so proud of, the potions essay he had managed to get fifty-percent in, the picture of him, Harry and Hermione last Christmas. Things had been so simpler back then, so carefree. But a monster had taken over her son, and only she could do was hope it didn't stay. All she could do was hope.

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A/N: So what did you think? Hit review and let me know so I can make it better :)

I'm trying really hard to find the motivation to do stuff right now but it's really hard so if I don't manage to post another chapter soon then I'm really sorry! I will get it done eventually, it just takes a lot of time and I'm in the middle of applying for university as well which is really stressful. But I definitely haven't forgotten about you guys and I will write another chapter as soon as I can!

See you all next time, nicholosaur :)


	59. Chapter 59: The Toxicity Of Hope

Disclaimer: Need I say more?

I've made you wait so long and I'm so sorry! I'm such a bad person! Thank you to erised1186 and Aflibble for reviewing! I love you guys :)

There's been a lot of flooding in my area over the past few days so I'm hoping my school bus will be cancelled tomorrow! If it is I'll be able to hopefully start the new chapter.

Anyways, on with the story!

* * *

I know you didn't bring me out here to drown

So why am I ten feet under and upside down

Barely surviving has become my purpose

Because I'm so used to living underneath the surface

If I could just see you

Everything would be all right

If I'd see you

This darkness would turn to light

And I will walk on water

And you will catch me if I fall

And I will get lost into your eyes

And I know everything will be alright

Lifehouse - Storm

* * *

"Harry?! Harry you need to wake up for me buddy! Come on open up those eyes!"

Groaning against the hands that gently shook him from sleep, he turned his head away from the light that shone directly into his eyes, lifting a weak hand to bat away the source. He didn't want to wake up, he wanted to sleep. Why couldn't the nurses understand that? Both he and Annessa desperately needed rest if they were going to beat the stupid monster that had taken over their bodies. Annessa! His eyes flew open, seeking out his companion, ignoring the headache which made his stomach swirl. Where was Annessa?

"Woah slow down tiger, you need to rest, your body has been through a lot these past days."

The room spun as he attempted to regain his balance, once again fighting against the hand holding him down. He needed to find her. He needed to make sure she was okay. Needed to make sure they didn't take her back. That wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to stay there, by the sea. Not in some hospital room!

"Harry it's okay, Annessa's fine, they're loading her up in the ambulance now."

His eyes snapped towards Whittker, shaking his head despite the shooting pain that accomponied the movement. Thrusting the book at the doctor, he strained to get to his friend, to make it right. They couldn't take her back! He wouldn't let them!

"She needs help Harry, help only the hospital can give her. The infection's worse, and out here she'll only get sicker, and it'll hurt her even more. You don't want that, do you?"

Of course he didn't! Tears welled up in his eyes as he thought of all the pain she must already be in, and he had just made it ten times worse by taking her out there. He should be the one in pain, not her. Annessa hadn't done anything wrong in her life, she wasn't supposed to die so young. It wasn't fair! Turning his face into his father's chest as he was scooped up, Harry took calming breaths, listening to the soft whispers of a man that should have been furious with him. He had broken the rules. He had made Annessa worse. He had made himself worse. Snape should have been seething. So why wasn't he? It was all too confusing for Harry to understand. So instead he would sleep. Sleep and hope that by the time he awoke again, the world would be right once more.

.

Hermione could sense there was something wrong with her best friend without him even opening his mouth. Ron sat hunched over a bowl of porridge, twirling the spoon in his hand, his eyes fixed on the lukewarm goop he hadn't even attempted to eat. Every so often his eyes would flick upwards, towards where the owls normally came from, and then with a shake of his head he'd go back to staring at what was supposed to be breakfast, the spoon not stopping its motions. Hermione wished there was something she could do to make it right. She had tried writing to Harry, and when that failed to gain a response, she had even turned to Snape. But whatever was going on at the hospital, neither of them had replied, and she was beginning to worry.

"It's almost Halloween."

Blinking in surprise, all she could do was nod as Ron abandoned the bowl and fixed his attention on her instead. They hadn't spoken properly in days.

"We could get Harry some of those sweets from Honeydukes, you know to make him feel better."

"I think he'd like that."

Satisfied, he stood from his spot at the table, slinging his bag onto his shoulder and disappearing out of the main doors leaving Hermione to sit in stunned silence. The last time they had spoken about Harry was on the train. Since then, any mention of him had Ron running in the opposite direction. Clearly he had been thinking about him a lot though, much more than Hermione had thought. And the sweets would be a nice touch, if she managed to get in touch with Snape to tell him of their plan. Sighing, she stared down at the parchment in front of her, hoping this one would finally get a reply. If not she was going to find a way to get to the hospital, whether Snape wanted her there or not.

.

He should be mad. Snape stared down at the sleeping boy beside him, a hand softly stroking his cheek. He should be fuming. But he wasn't. Harry had put both himself and Annessa in so much danger, and right at that moment the chance of a severe infection was much too high for Snape to even attempt to imagine. Yet all he could think about was the look in his son's eyes as they loaded Annessa into the ambulance. That heartbroken way he cradled the small book of her wishes, as if it was the most precious thing in the world. Harry was scared, Snape could see that. Scared of losing Annessa to something so viscious. But also scared of what might become of himself. Everything that was happening to Annessa could happen just as easily to Harry. The disease was unpredictable and wild, and Annessa didn't have half the problems Harry had presented with. Seeing your own fate laid out in front of you would be scary as hell for an adult, let alone a teenager. So no, he just couldn't be mad. Because he knew he would have done the exact same thing.

"His vitals look good."

Snapping his eyes up at Whittker, he managed a small nod. It was too soon to tell if he would pull through without a scratch, and the last thing Snape needed was false hope. Hope wouldn't cure his son, or make life any easier in the hospital. Hope wouldn't make Annessa live to see another birthday, another Christmas. Hope was toxic, and sooner or later it would drag them all down with it.

.

The young girl watched from the window as nurses darted up and down the corridor, some with medication, others with bandages and IV's. She wanted to go home. Or at least to see her sister. But she couldn't do either. Instead she was stuck in a stupid hospital, and it was all because of the damn disease. Her parent's always said it made her special, like a butterfly. Too fragile to be handled by the world. Basically it meant a butt-ton of pills, and never going anywhere that might carry a risk of a serious illness. Auto-immune. At least that's what she thought it was. Basically her immune system sucked, and without the tablets she took on a daily basis it would begin attacking her healthy cells instead of the ones that made her sick, which just made her even sicker. She was surprised her parents had even consented to taking her on holiday, but she knew they never would again, not after how it turned out. Not that she knew exactly what had happened. All she could remember was the pain.

Tugging on the pole that held her IV, she dragged it towards the door, making sure the stupid paper mask was securely in place before stepping out into the corridor. She was bored as hell, and the head nurse had said she could go check out the play room as long as she wore the mask. Studying the sign for a minute, she took a step forward, pressing herself against the wall as a bed came trundling towards her. Flicking her eyes towards the occupant, her breathing stopped momentarily. Her eyes growing wide. Reaching out a hand, she stopped the bed in its tracks, ignoring the protests of the nurses surrounding it. Pulling down the mask, she placed a trembling hand on the shoulder of the girl, a single tear falling down her cheek. "Annessa?"

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A/N: Well that's another chapter done and dusted! I hopefully have a cadet weekend camp soon if the weather improves so I may not be able to post another chapter until after then but I won't forget this time!

Hit review and tell me what you think :)

Seeya next post, nicholosaur


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